Disavowals
by Elsha
Summary: Two weeks before his final year at Hogwarts, Theodore Nott's summer consists mainly of homework, pesky relatives, and, of course, music. But some decisions cannot be put off forever...follows Disadvantages.
1. Vivace

**A/N**: Here begins Disavowals. It will cover at least the summer and the first half of Theo's final year at Hogwarts; possibly the second half as well (although it's already far too long as it is.) Posting will probably be sporadic, but not too sporadic (weeks, not months.) Also: sorry about the lack of marking between sections, I simply can't figure out a way to keep my nice asterisks there when I upload. Aaargh.

**Chapter One: Andante**

Anne Fairleigh was making her bed when her brother burst unceremoniously into her room. She jumped as the door slammed into the wall.

"Eddie, don't do that!"

"How'd you know it was me?" her brother asked.

She turned around, hands on hips. "One, there does happen to be a mirror opposite the wall, and two, no one else in this family has such little regard for the doors."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Anne, no one else in this family complains so much about it."

"Dad does."

"Parents don't count, they complain about everything."

"We get off pretty lightly, you know that," Anne reminded him. The sound of metal sliding on wood caught her ear and she reached behind her over the bed to stop the window slamming shut. She should have latched it properly.

"How can you say that? Mum and Dad are getting worked up over everything at the moment, they want to know where we are all the time!"

Anne had to turn around to latch the window shut as she replied. Was he ever going to listen to the answer?

"Do you remember the Martins, Eddie? You remember Elise, couple of years younger than you? Or Hector, Nicola's friend? Remember them? Remember what happened last August?"

Eddie gave an unwilling jerk of his head. "Yeah, but...they were all your sort, weren't they? Wizards. You go on about this war or whatever but I've never seen any sign of it."

Anne made herself count to five in her head before she replied.

"They were _murdered_ and you say you've never seen any sign of it?"

"Wars are bigger and that, four people doesn't count -"

"It's more than four people," Anne shot back. "You say you haven't seen it but do you ever read the newspaper and notice how many people are getting murdered or killed in gas explosions these days? Even the Muggles have started to catch on that something's up, and you _haven't seen it_?"

"Why should I read the newspaper? There's never anything interesting apart from the sport."

Anne threw up her hands in frustration. "Did you come here to annoy me or does this visit have a purpose?"

"Well, it did, but if you're going to be like this I don't know if I'm going to tell you." Eddie looked smug at having gained the upper hand.

Anne drew herself up to her full height. It was still about three inches shorter than her younger brother, but that wasn't the point. "Eddie. Tell me. _Now_."

He opened his mouth, presumably to reply rudely, when he was pre-empted by a dark brown barn owl swooping into the room over his head. Anne didn't hide her grin when he jumped.

"What the-"

The owl, Theo's Bronwyn, landed neatly on the top of Anne's dresser. Anne had tried to dissuade her from doing so when she'd first noticed the claw marks on the mirror frame, but it hadn't worked, and Anne had resigned herself to it. Anne's own Gwaihir, sitting on his perch in the corner, gave a sleepy _hoot_ of recognition.

"Those bloody _birds_," muttered Eddie.

"Be nice," his older sister admonished. "Was that what you were going to tell me?"

"Yes," he admitted grudgingly. "Stupid bird arrived when you were in the shower. It's been hanging around in the kitchen for the last half an hour."

Anne went over to the dresser to pet the glossy owl. There was a rather thick letter attached to her leg. The long day of homework and probable boredom stretching out before Anne suddenly seemed quite a lot brighter. Anne detached it carefully and offered Bronwyn an owl treat from the box she kept on her dresser. The owl accepted it in a dignified manner.

"How come it never pecks _you_?" her brother asked grumpily.

"Because I'm nice to her and don't try to take letters that belong to other people," Anne replied. This explained Eddie's grumping. He'd had an antagonistic relationship with Bronwyn ever since last summer when he'd tried - being sincerely helpful - to get her to give him a letter to give to Anne. He still had a faint scar on his hand from where she'd pecked him. Bronwyn arriving would not make Eddie's day start well.

"Makes me glad I'm not a wizard. Why can't you use e-mail or something?"

"Wizards don't use electricity," Anne explained for what seemed the hundredth time.

"But why not?"

"The wizarding world is really...traditional," Anne said, putting the letter on her dresser. She wanted Eddie to go away so she could read it. "That's why there's a war at the moment, sort of; the really old-fashioned people don't want any Muggle-borns corrupting their nice world. Weren't you going over to Mike's this morning?"

"You just want me to go away so you can read your letter. Who's it from, your _boyfriend_?"

Anne sighed. "Yes, now go away. Timbuktu would be my choice of destination, but I'll take anywhere that isn't this room."

"Fine, I know you hate me, I'm going." Eddie turned around to leave and actually got, by Anne's reckoning, several steps down the hall before she heard him stop and dash back. It was longer than she'd thought it would take him.

He leaned around the doorframe. "_You_ have a boyfriend?"

Anne just looked at him. He was her little brother. He'd never even met Theo. She could handle this.

"Don't sound so surprised. Now go away."

"He goes to your school, doesn't he?"

" Go away."

" What's his name?"

" Go away."

"Does Terry know who he is?"

" Go away."

"Will you tell me about him if I go away and let you read the letter?"

" Go away."

"I'm going to take that as a yes, you know."

" Go away."

"You could just tell me and save yourself the-"

Anne solved the problem by slamming the door in her brother's face. It was just lucky for him he was fast enough to avoid a broken nose.

Almost two hundred miles away in northern Wales, the author of Anne's letter was in a position to strongly appreciate Anne's troubles with her younger brother. Theodore Nott was sitting in the living room of his aunt and uncle's house, trying to practise the piano. The emphasis was strongly upon the word trying. For the thousandth time, he rehearsed what he was going to say to his father about his paternal relatives the next time he saw him.

"What are you playing?" asked his younger cousin Lucas.

"I'm _attempting_ to practise the first movement of Vivaldi's concerto in G minor, but I'm not really getting the chance."

"What's a concerto?"

" It's a piece of music which I want to play." Theo was tempted to just start and ignore the brat, but he wasn't going to let Lucas drive him to bad manners.

"Theodore, I'm _bo-_red."

That was one thing he was _not_ going to miss when he left here, Theo reflected as he stared at the piano keys. Being an unpaid minder for his cousins. Celia at least could amuse herself, but Lucas had never learned how.

"What can I do?" Lucas whined.

Theo closed his eyes. "Go play patience. Read a book. Draw a picture. I don't know, when I was your age I amused myself!"

"Didn't someone play with you?" Lucas said. He was hanging off one end of the piano, making it rock.

"Stop that!" Theo said irritably. Lucas dropped off at once. At least he had him listening. "No, they didn't. It was just my father and me. I looked after myself."

"But you're here, so can't you find something for me to do?" One thing Lucas had learned was persistence. So would he, Theo guessed, if he'd grown up in this household. Two busy parents, an older sister who was more interested in her books than her brother. Lucas had to be persistent, and noisy, to get any attention. Theo could understand it, but that didn't mean he liked it when the techniques were applied to him.

"Can't you think of _anything_?" Theo frowned at Lucas. Absent-mindedly, he reached up to return one of the family photos that dotted the top of the piano to its place. Lucas had knocked it over.

"No." Lucas pouted. He might be only eight, but Theo felt this was not a good look on anyone over the age of three. Particularly if they were plain-faced little boys.

Theo sighed. He could just tell Lucas to go away again, but he seemed to do that every day he was here, and it was beginning to feel a bit...well, cruel. No one else was there to pay attention to him. And he was, after all, very young. His family wasn't his fault.

"What if I teach you to play patience?"

"What's patience?"

"It's a card game, and you can play it by yourself."

Lucas wrinkled his nose, but evidently decided that was the best he was going to get. "All right."

"Fine." Theo stood up from the piano. The living room was only relatively tidy - the Amberleys did not have a house elf, and Karena Amberley was so rarely home these days - but the table in the dining room was probably clear. "Where can we find a pack of cards?"

It was only once he'd left Lucas shuffling the pack of cards for another game that Theo belatedly realised where _he_ had learnt to play patience. Terry and Anne had taught him during the April holidays. Was it only a Muggle game, or did he know any wizards who played it?

He paused with his hands over the piano keys. If it _was_ only a Muggle game...and his aunt or uncle caught Lucas playing it...

Well, his uncle was at work all day and Lucas spent most of his time when his parents were home with them. His aunt was out all the time - on Death Eater business, Theo was sure - so she wasn't likely to spot it.

_If they do...where did I learn it? Let's see. A book? That would make sense. A book of card games in the Hogwarts library, because I wanted something to do when I was home by myself in the holidays. That's it. That way they'll just complain about the appalling standards of education, and get distracted. _

Theo spent the time in between practising movements of the concerto coming up with titles for the mythical book. It was really quite amusing.

Anne was sitting in the living room waiting for the evening news to come on when her father got home from work. The brief update in between whatever was on before it (she wasn't paying attention) hadn't looked promising. Something about a 'gas pipe explosion' in Somerset, with a mention from the presenter about the apparent rash of these incidents. Anne was pretty sure she knew what the real cause was. The _Prophet_ would tell her tomorrow.

"You're not supposed to be watching TV yet, that's not fair!"

Her younger sister was standing in the doorway, clutching a football protectively to her chest. Nicola continued, "Mum says we aren't allowed to watch lots of TV in the holidays!"

"Go and tell her if you want, I'm just watching the news," Anne told her.

"Eddie was playing footie with me outside," said Nicola accusingly. "You never play with me any more."  
Anne shifted on the couch, suppressing a twinge of guilt. It wasn't her fault that it was easier to spend time with her magical sister than her Muggle one. It was age, that was all. Nic was only eight.

"I read to you last night, didn't I?"

"You read to me, but you don't _do_ anything with me." Nicola stuck out a trembling lower lip. "You don't like me because I'm a mug...mug...because I'm not a witch."

Anne sat straight up on the couch, ignoring the opening music of the news programme. "Nic, that's not true! Come here."

Nicola walked reluctantly to the couch, dropping the football, and climbed onto it next to Anne.

"You'll still like me even if I don't go to Hogwarts, won't you?" she begged earnestly. Anne tried to resist the tug of those soulful brown eyes.

_She's probably only doing it to get to watch TV. You know she is. _

"Of course I will, Nic," she assured her youngest sister, wrapping an arm around her. Nic cuddled into her. Anne's eyes flicked to the TV, and the 'gas explosion' story.

"..._this is the latest in a rash of explosions caused by faulty gas piping in the last year and a half. Almost all have resulted in fatalities, including the two people killed today. Official sources say..." _

"They need a new cover story," Anne muttered to herself.

"Who does?" Nicola asked, looking up at her. "Can I watch the news with you?"

_See? See? Manipulative sibling alert! _The inner voice sounded very Theo-like.

Anne sighed. "I suppose you can."

"Oh _good_." Nicola, never one to risk her advantage, snuggled into her older sister's embrace. Despite the depressing news, Anne felt a little better.

About ten minutes later, Anne and Nicola heard the front door open.

"Hi, Dad!" Anne called. Nicola got down from the couch and ran out to throw herself at her father.  
"Daddy, you're home!"

Jonathan Fairleigh put his suitcase down on the chest-of-drawers next to the door and smiled at his youngest child. Anne could just see them through the living-room door. "You're very glad to see me today."

"That's because nobody else will listen to me," Nicola told him mournfully. From the kitchen and living room came twin yells of resentment.

"Oy, I played footie with you for an hour this afternoon!"

"Nic, you little liar, stop trying to make everyone feel sorry for you!"

Jonathan ruffled his daughter's hair and gently unwrapped her arms from around him. "'Scuse me, love, I've got to go and say hello to your mother."

Anne saw him move out of sight through the door into the kitchen, with Nicola trotting behind him. She felt vaguely rejected. From the kitchen came the sounds of her parents greeting each other. She noticed that the ads were on, and muted the TV. Eddie came wandering into her line of sight, stopping in the doorway.

"What're you watching?"

"Just the news."

"Is the sport on yet?"

"No, not for ages."

Eddie made an indeterminate noise and wandered away again. He was quickly replaced by Anne's father.

"Hello, love, how's your day been?"

Anne lifted a hand to greet her father. "Fine. Nothing much happened. I got an owl."

Her father frowned. "You - oh, you got a letter that came with an owl. It's very confusing, all these wizarding words you use." His smile belied the criticism.

Anne shrugged. "I suppose so. Did you have a nice day at work?"

"Just the usual. What are you watching?"

"The news. There's been another attack in Somerset. Someone needs to find a new cover story - the Muggles aren't going to keep buying the gas explosions forever."

Her father frowned. "I heard about that on the radio. You mean _all_ of them in the past year or so have been...your people doing things?"

"They aren't _my_ people, they're Death Eaters, but yeah."

Jonathan Fairleigh shook his head. "My God. I can't believe you're caught up in all of that."

"I'm not," Anne protested. "Well - I haven't been so far. With any luck..."

Her father opened his mouth to reply, but her mother's voice came crisply from the kitchen.

"Jonathan, can you come and help me serve up?"

Nodding to her, Anne's father left. Anne sighed, and got up to switch the television off. There wouldn't be anything more of interest to her. For a moment she stood there, staring sightlessly out the living room.

_Theo's losing his family because they're wizards. I'm losing mine because they're not. _

_Why can't anything be simple? _

"Theodore!" his uncle called up the stairs to his room. It was nine o'clock, and Theo was sitting reading on the windowsill of his room, one leg dangling spider-like out the window. He didn't hear his uncle at first - not until the door of his room opened.

"Theodore!" Paul Amberley said. "Your father's here."

Theo narrowly prevented himself from falling out the window. His jumpiness was due entirely to the nature of the book he was reading. That, and the unexpected news.

"Dad? He's here now? Is he downstairs-"

"Yes, yes, we were calling you, but you didn't seem to hear us. " His uncle frowned as Theo hooked his leg back over the sill. "You probably shouldn't be sitting there."

Theo gave his uncle a sceptical look. "I'm not going to fall out unless Celia or Lucas take it into their heads to push me."

"I wouldn't put it past them," his uncle joked. Theo tossed the book on the bed, face down, and headed out without a backwards glance. There was no earthly reason for his uncle to notice it _unless_ he made a fuss.

"When did Dad get here?" he asked anxiously, picking up speed once he heard his uncle following. The book should be safe enough in his room now. "I didn't know he was coming."

"Only five minutes or so ago," his uncle called after him. "Mind the stairs!"

Theo did trip on Celia's broomstick, which had created a death-trap three stairs from the bottom, but was fortunate enough to grab the banister. He swore under his breath, even more so when he heard his uncle laugh. He entered the living room rubbing his shins. Not _quite_ the impression he wanted to make.  
Eric Nott was standing beside the piano, talking to his younger sister. It struck Theo for the first time how much older his father was than Karena Amberley. These last couple of years had added lines to his face that were more noticeable every time Theo saw him, perhaps because Theo saw him so rarely now.

"Theo," his father said with the warmest of smiles. "I was almost thinking you didn't want to see me."

"I always want to see you," Theo told him, more gruffly than he'd intended. In normal circumstances - but how long ago had those applied - he would have been embarrassed to hug his father in front of witnesses, even if the witnesses were his aunt and uncle. It didn't even occur to him not to, now.

"You'll hate me for this, but you really are taller every time I see you," his father told him as they pulled apart. "You're going to outgrow me at this rate."

"Too many tall people in our family," Theo said. He glanced at Aunt Karena. "And Mum looks pretty tall, in all the photos." Adrienne Nott had been dead for too much of Theo's life for him to avoid mentioning her.

"She was tall," Eric Nott agreed. His gaze rested on Theo. "The older you get, the more you look like her."

"And like Mo -" Theo heard Paul Amberley, behind him, cut off sharply when his wife shot him a quelling glance. "Hmm, yes, he does."

Theo shrugged. What did you say to that?

And like who? There wasn't anyone - _Oh,, yes. Mortimer Jugson. Stupid pretentious French names. He's Mum's uncle, and she looked like her father, so maybe I look like him. _That thought didn't appeal. Looking like his dad was alright, it was his dad, it was _different_, but looking like a Death Eater who happened to be a distant relative wasn't an idea he relished.

"I'd better just go check on Celia and Lucas," said Theo's aunt smoothly. "You two will want a bit of space."

"Yes, I'll, ah, come and help," added Paul Amberley. "Don't feel you have to stand up all night, Eric."

"I can take a hint when I'm clubbed over the head with it," replied Theo's father, seating himself on a couch. Theo moved to sit opposite him as his aunt and uncle left the room.

"So, how have your holidays been?" asked his father, leaning back on the couch. "Doing very much?"

"Rather boring." Theo rolled his eyes. "I've been mainly doing my homework and trying to prevent Lucas and Celia destroying the house. Childminding is not my forte. If it was up to me I'd just lock them in a cupboard until they were fourteen or so and capable of coherent conversation."

Eric Nott laughed. "Celia's fourteen soon, isn't she?"

Theo frowned. "Fifteen, then."

_Sweet Merlin. _Anne_ was fourteen the first time I met her. Well, closer to fifteen, but even so. She was miles ahead of Celia in the maturity stakes. _

"Because you're so old and wise," his father teased.

Theo grinned. "I was always older and wiser than those two at their ages."

"I can remember a few times..."

"Oh, shut _up_, Dad."

"Getting a bit bored, then?"

That sounded like something more than a simple question, and Theo picked his answer carefully.

"It could be worse. I'm getting my homework done, and there's a piano. I can read." He glanced over at it. "I just miss home, you know? There was so much space."

"That's going to change." His father's eyes flashed. "The way things are going, we'll have this war won by the time you're out of school, and then things will go back to normal."

_They're_ never_ going back to normal, Dad_.

Theo stared at his father. "You mean that? By next June?"

"I think so." His father looked old. "I know you kids just think about getting out there and fighting, but this isn't fun and games, Theodore. The sooner we can bring an end to this, the better."

"But I don't want to miss out-" Theo protested, the lie coming so easily it was still frightening.

"You won't, don't worry." His father leaned forward, and Theo mirrored him, elbows on knees.

"Just don't get too...involved. This is a war that has to be fought, and yes, it can be...enjoyable, but don't get caught up in that. You're sensible, but we don't need too many people like Bellatrix Lestrange running around. Winning this is what counts, not the number of corpses."

"But if the more of them that die, the more demoralised they get," Theo pointed out.

"Yes, but there is such a thing as too much of a good thing, you understand?"

Theo tried his best not to look sick. He hoped it was working. "I suppose so."

"Although," his father said, "it must be said that people like Bellatrix have their place in this fight. And you have yours."

Theo's heart started to pound. "You mean-"

His father nodded. "The Dark Lord's decided it's time for you to join us. A few of your classmates, too."

"My god." Theo tried to keep the fear off his face, and failed. "I mean - wow - but - I didn't realise it'd be this soon-"

"It's all right to be afraid, Theodore." His father looked almost - sympathetic. "I was. It's one thing being all full of crusading zeal about protecting your heritage, and another when you realise it's actually going to happen." Theo dropped his head, anyway - his father must have seen more than fear, he thought with dull panic.

"I just want to do the right thing."

"I know." The tone was gentle enough that Theo ceased his study of the carpet. "You'll be fine. It's soon, but the Dark Lord seems to have decided he'd rather have your year oath-bound before you go back to school, with Potter around. I think he's got some plans."

Theo forced himself to nod. "I hope - we can handle it."

"I'm certain _you_ can. Besides," his father's eyes twinkled, "I'd rather you understood how serious this is than acted like some bone-headed Gryffindor."

Theo snorted. "No chance of that!" Panic was still there, but he could pretend. For however much longer it took. "When...when do I go?"

"Tomorrow night. I'll come by and pick you up - the Ministry are trying to monitor us, but they can't cover everywhere."

"I still can't imagine you as an escaped convict, Dad." Theo shook his head. "You're too respectable."

"Stranger things have happened." His father frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no," Theo fought to keep himself from babbling. "It's just - I don't know - the end of an era. I mean, when we win, we'll get our family back, but it won't be the same. The war used to be all your business, and now it'll be mine, too. I don't know. I've spent so long wanting to be grown up and now I'm here, being a kid doesn't seem half as bad as it did then."

"It always does." They were silent for a minute.

"So, what were you reading that had you so engrossed?" Eric Nott said, signalling the end of the serious talk. "A good detective story?"

Theo threw him a dirty look. He was _allowed_ to like detective novels, and his father didn't have to tease him about it. But if he knew what Theo had been reading...

"My Charms textbook, actually. There was some really interesting detail about the theory of wards that we haven't got into before." It was true. He'd read it yesterday.

"Do you think you'd like to do something along those lines?"

"Maybe," Theo replied honestly, "but until this is over - not to mention my NEWTs - I feel like all bets are off."

"It's still worth thinking about."

The conversation settled into more normal - less dangerous - channels, and Theo could relax.

He couldn't help thinking that apart from being a Muggle book borrowed from a Muggle-born, (and wildly improbable at that), his father probably wouldn't have found anything to complain about with his current reading material. The worst thing so far was the absolute uselessness of that Gandalf chap. Any decent wizard would have just Apparated to Mordor and saved himself a trip.

It was ten-thirty by the time his father left and Theo headed upstairs to his bedroom. It took everything he had to walk, not run. The panic was setting in again. As soon as he got there he shut the door, threw the bolt, and leaned back on it, breathing as hard as if he'd run a mile. Tomorrow night. The Dark Lord, and the Dark Mark, and...

What was he going to do? School didn't start for another week and a half. At Hogwarts, he would be safe. Until then...the Ministry was no refuge, not for a Death Eater's son. The classmates he knew how to contact would be at that ceremony, too. And his family. There was no one.

No one.

Theo squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. No! He would not do this! There had to be a way out. There _had _to be. It was going to hurt his father. But...if he refused, he would die. He couldn't kill for the Dark Lord, he couldn't. Not people like Anne, and even Muggles - it just was not worth it. And his father wouldn't understand, not in a lifetime. Not ever.

So...he had a breathing space. Until tomorrow morning, until he was expected to be up and about. What else did he have? His wand. He'd never had a warning about underage magic, so he could afford one. His broomstick. His school things. He could leave, if he had a destination. Leave tonight and he'd have eight hours, maybe more, flying time. Six in the dark. Good enough for avoiding Muggles. Enough to get to Hogwarts...but no, that was too obvious, and besides he wasn't sure where exactly to find it.  
The memory suddenly struck him of a conversation with Anne, the last time he'd seen her.

_Where will you go, if your father decides..._

_He won't, not until the Christmas holidays, and I'm of age then. I can just stay at Hogwarts. _

_Anne had frowned, and Theo had traced the line of it with his finger. _

_Theo...I mean it. You can't not think about things forever. _

_Fine. I don't know. Okay? _

_She had bitten her lip, the way she always did when she was thinking, and nodded once. My address. I'll give you my address. You can always try and get to my place. _

_Essex? I'd be caught, if I was really running. _

_She'd pulled away._

_I'm only trying to help. If you...if you died because you had nowhere to go..._

_Theo followed and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. _

_I know. But if I had your address...well...I can't tell what I don't know. _

_You wouldn't. I trust you. Besides, my house is safe. It's warded to only let people we say can come in come in. And there's a Portkey, for Hogwarts, in case there's an attack. All the Muggle-born families have one. _

_Wards can be broken. So can people. _

_Stop it, she'd said into his chest. I don't want to think about it!_

_Now who's not thinking? _

_I know. Just...please. In case? _

_Alright, then. _

The memory got rather more pleasant at that point but Theo pulled himself out of it ruthlessly. Anne. He'd still got her address safely tucked away in his memory, not wanting to have it written down, and...Essex _was_ a long way away but at Anne's he could rest and maybe wait for a message...a message. Dumbledore.

_He's the Headmaster, I'm sure he has an interest in the welfare of his students. The Ministry's out, too dangerous, too many Death Eaters. Besides, legally I don't think there's even anything they can do. I'm a minor, I'm in my family's care, there's no _proof. _But Dumbledore...maybe he can help. I'd rather handle this on my own, but it just may be out of my hands now. If he can help... _

_If not...well, my options are rapidly running out. He knows about...what happened with Hermione Granger's parents. He knows. It has to be safe. _

He glanced at the clock. Ten thirty five. By eleven, he wanted to be on his way.

_Packing is going to be rather messy. _

_Oh well. _

Half an hour later, Theo looked around the room he had inhabited for two short summers. He had no regrets about leaving his aunt's house behind; he'd never wanted to come here in the first place. It made it easier in so many ways. If he'd had to leave his own room...he thought of the fading Quidditch posters and wooden beams of his childhood room. He'd gone back there with his aunt over Christmas to collect some things. He'd left the posters, as a promise to come back. He was burning all his bridges, tonight. Everything he owned had been hastily shoved into his school trunk. It wasn't so hard, given that he lived out of it nine months of the year anyway. Bronwyn had been dispatched to Hogwarts, with a polite message for the Headmaster. Hopefully it would be enough.  
There was a sharp knock on the door, and Theo froze. He was all packed, he couldn't disguise that, and -  
The door opened a fraction.

"I'm getting changed!" he burst out.

"Oh, sorry," came his aunt's voice. The door closed again. "I was just wondering if you were asleep yet. Paul's listening to the Quidditch on the WWN."

" Yes, I'm going to bed," Theo replied. "I'll find out the score in the morning."

"If it's finished by then," his aunt said in an amused tone. "I have to...I'm going out tonight, and I might not be back when Paul goes to work in the morning, so could you make sure Lucas has his breakfast?"

"Sure."

"Goodnight, then." He waited until he heard her footsteps clattering downstairs, then shoved a chair under the door handle.

Theo walked over to the window. It was a foggy night; perfect, but he'd have to be careful flying. "Going out" was his aunt's term for Death Eater business, so she'd be well away. He tried not to think about who was going to be a target.

_Maybe the Aurors will catch them. Maybe they'll be safe. I'm doing the only thing I can._

Checking the harness on his trunk - he'd shrink it, but the last thing he needed was an owl from the Ministry about underage magic - Theo opened the window wide. This was it, then. Escape at last from his bloody cousins.

His father's face came into his mind. Could he do this to him? Eric Nott had lost his wife, and now Theo was stealing his only child away. He had been so _glad_ to see his father tonight, and he wouldn't ever again. His father was his family. If he did this...

Then he remembered the Dark Mark on his father's arm, and a panicked letter to Anne. He recalled seeing the sun rise at this window, waiting for the owl to let him know she was safe.

_It's him doing this, not me_, Theo thought fiercely, and without a backwards glance he headed out into the night.


	2. Agitato

**A/N: **Yeah, no more exams! (Apart from the big horrible end-of-year ones in two months, but hey, that's ages away. Ages. If I keep repeating it, it's true.)

**Chapter Two: Agitato**

* * *

An hour or so before dawn, Theo landed in a patch of forest near Cambridge. It was getting light rapidly, and it was still going to take him couple of hours to get to Anne's. The flight had been long, and he'd jumped at every shadow. He knew that no one would be after him — yet — but if his mother had gone to his room…and found the note…no, she wouldn't be up until at least seven. It was only five. He had a couple of hours grace, and then they had the country to search for him. He was safe for the moment. But he was cold, hungry, tired, and wanted nothing more than tea — or better yet, coffee — and bed. He heard a Muggle bus rumble past on the nearby road. A car. Or a bus. Now that would be wonderful…

He felt like smacking himself on the head. The Knight Bus. Why hadn't he thought of it? Of course he couldn't have taken it straight from home…but once he was a couple of hours away…

Then again, arriving at Anne's at midnight probably wouldn't have been a good idea. And he could still catch it now, and arrive there in time for breakfast. Maybe he could catch a bite to eat. Maybe Dumbledore had already sent a note and had somewhere for him to go.

Maybe Anne's optimism was too bloody infectious when, for all he knew, the Death Eaters were already on his trail, but for the moment it was far preferable to the alternative.

Dragging his still enchanted trunk to the road, Theodore stuck out his wand hand. The loud bang of the bus as it appeared seconds later was enough to make him smile.

* * *

Anne had never been a morning person, but birdsong and her youngest sister had hauled her out of bed sometime around half-past six, so she'd given in to Nicola and arisen. Her sister didn't really want her to be up for a purpose, she just wanted her up, so Anne was left in relative peace to shower and dress. That had been two hours ago, and she was now sitting in the kitchen with sunlight streaming across the table contemplating the latest attack splashed all over the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. It made for grim reading. A Muggle-born wizard due to start at Hogwarts in September and his entire family had been found dead in their Suffolk home. He Who Must Not Be Named and his Death Eaters were warning the world that even being a Muggle-born was enough to make you the enemy. Being an eleven-year-old child who had received his Hogwarts letter not three weeks ago hadn't saved Jared Anderson, not when the Death Eaters had come calling.

Anne shivered and looked out the window. The wards surrounding their house were invisible, but gave her a lot of comfort. It had been rather amusing to see her brother's friends unable to enter the door until Eddie had realised the issue and hastily welcomed them into the house.

She wondered, idly, what Theo was doing. He came of age just a week after they returned to school, and it had been worrying him even back in July. He wanted to avoid being a Death Eater, at all costs; but making the final break with his family was also the last thing he wanted to do. Whenever Anne looked at her parents now, she couldn't help thinking how lucky she was. She would never have to make that choice between her family and her conscience. If it even was Theo's conscience. She suspected it was more to do with his desire to not be forced to kill, than moral convictions. Or at least he thought so. Anne wasn't quite so certain that Theo was as disinterested as he claimed to be, but then, she wasn't a mind-reader.

Her second-youngest sister entered the kitchen, yawning. "Morning, Anne."

"Morning, Terry," Anne said absently, turning a page of the paper. "The _Prophet_'s pretty depressing."

"Isn't it always, now?" asked Theresa, opening the fridge. "Where's the milk?"

"I used it on my cereal."

"Anne! No fair! Now someone has to go and get some from the shop! And you _know_ Mum'll be annoyed if she doesn't get her tea."

"Good thing Dad's already gone to work then, isn't it? I'll nip down in a minute, okay?"

"Al-_right_. But don't be ages, I'm _hungry_."

Anne stood with a sigh. "I'm going, I'm going. Is there anything in the change jar?"

Her sister looked in the jar on the top of the bench. "Nope. Eddie cleaned it out yesterday. Just use your own money, you can get it back later."

Anne rolled her eyes and left the kitchen, tugging her sister's pigtail on the way out. "The things I do for you…"

Terry batted her hand away. "Yeah, yeah, I love you for it. Hurry up."

Anne grinned as she jogged up the stairs to get her wallet.

* * *

Theo rapped smartly on the door, praying he'd got the right house, praying the Death Eaters weren't a step behind him. It didn't _seem_ very different from a wizarding house. Outwardly, anyway. There were a few minor differences - the total lack of anything involving magic in sight - but it seemed the same. That was strange. And almost disappointing. He'd expected a Muggle house to be more…well, different. Interestingly so.

The door opened to reveal someone who was not Anne, but Theo had been prepared for that. With six people in her family, there was every chance it wouldn't be her - and this woman did look a little like her. She was about Anne's height, with greying ash blonde hair in a bun at the base of her neck, and Terry's wide brown eyes. She was also dressed in Muggle clothing - a blouse and skirt - and that was a difference. Theo felt oddly relieved.

"Hello?" she said inquiringly.

"Am I at the right house for Anne Fairleigh?"

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to know that?"

Theo recalled that he was dressed in wizarding robes, and Anne's mother - if she was Anne's mother - was a Muggle, and one of the only reasons a wizard would turn up unannounced at a Muggle-born's house in these times was _not_ a good one.

_Smooth, Nott, very smooth. _He racked his brains for something identifying.

"I know it's a little early, but if she's up, could you tell her that Theodore Nott needs to have a word with her, and -" Anne would get this, and know it _was_ him "- he's quite curious about how the second half of the sarabande is going."

"_Nott_?" If anything, the woman looked even more suspicious, and she'd withdrawn a few inches from the door. Theo shifted his foot ever so slightly forward and ran into a solid wall. So those wards Anne had mentioned were up. Good. "Forgive me if that name isn't comforting. I read the wizarding paper as well as the Muggle ones, but I suppose now you'll tell me it's no relative."

" If you're talking about the Eric Nott who escaped from Azkaban last summer, actually, that would be my father. That's…partly why I need to talk to Anne. _Is_ she home?"

"I'm afraid you've yet to give me a good reason why you need to talk to her."

Theo sat down hard on his surge of impatience. The woman was being obstructive, and suspicious, and she was a _Muggle_, but she had every reason to be all of those things. She was Anne's mother. He was not going to be impolite.

But the itch between his shoulder blades that had sat there for the last twelve hours had not gone away, and he couldn't help a nervous glance behind him.

"Look, Mrs. Fairleigh, please tell Anne I need a word with her. That's all. I promise -" it wouldn't work, but saying it couldn't hurt "- the last thing I am trying to do is bring Death Eaters down on your home. The _very_ last thing. I just think Anne may have a message I've been expecting."

"Why would that be?"

Bluntness wasn't working, but he had nothing else left to try. He really wanted to just stride in and find Anne - even Terry would do in a pinch - but the wards prevented him from doing that.

Besides, a small voice was reminding him that it generally did to make a good first impression with your girlfriend's mother.

"Because right now there are about three people I really trust, and she's one of them." He locked eyes with Mrs. Fairleigh, a difficult feat given that she was close on a foot shorter than he was.

The impasse was broken by a small blonde-headed blur. Theo got the vague impression of Terry in a white shirt with very short sleeves and blue trousers of some sort before she hit him at about fifty miles an hour.

He staggered back a step as Terry gave him an enthusiastic hug and let go again, almost jumping up and down in sheer exuberance.

"Theo, you didn't say you were coming to visit! I haven't seen you for _ages_! Come in, Anne's gone to get some milk, but she'll be back soon. How did you get here? Are you okay? Do your aunt and uncle know where you are? I hope they don't, they're Death Eaters aren't they? Why aren't you coming in?"

"Hello, Terry, you might want to breathe before you collapse of oxygen deprivation," Theo replied. He'd had enough time to gather himself.

Mrs. Fairleigh sighed in a resigned fashion. "Terry, what's the use of all those wards if you go and bystep them?"

Terry, standing in the doorway by her mother, wrinkled her nose. "It's only Theo, Mum, he's a friend. Oh, wait, you haven't met him, have you?"

"Well, I have now," her mother told her, "but I'm quite curious about why I haven't before."

She gave Theo a significant look.

"Call it a character flaw, but I was putting off being disowned from my family as long as I could, and being seen speaking to a Muggle-b- to the wrong people would have been the quickest way to accomplish it." Theo shrugged. He knew that guilt was going to set in later, and pain, and maybe even second thoughts, but for now he was still running on fear and adrenaline. "My father…well, yes, you probably have some idea about that."

"What are you doing, running away from home?" Mrs. Fairleigh raised an eyebrow.

"Something of the sort, yes," Theo replied blandly.

She rubbed her forehead. "I don't know. It's only nine o'clock, and things are already getting complicated. Well, if you are running away from your family, would you like to come in and have a cup of tea while Anne gets back? I've just put the kettle on."

"And you can see our piano, 'cause it's way better than the school one, and I can tell you how the television works 'cause I looked it up in a book and I _do_ know now, and -"

Theo grinned at Terry. "Ah, but have you found out how real photographs work?"

She nodded proudly. "Yes, and I took some and developed them all by myself. I'll show you. Come on!"

She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the house. Her mother followed them, still seeming resigned.

"Yes, she's been brewing up all sorts of dreadful things in the kitchen these holidays. I'm almost afraid to go in there sometimes."

"Snape _would_ be proud of you," Theo told Terry.

"Nah, he wouldn't. He'd say I'd been doing dangerous things unsupervised and was lucky to have not blown anything up," she said dismissively.

"Which from Snape means that you pulled off some very tricky potions without any help and are to be congratulated," Theo reminded her.

They were walking down a hallway, presumably to the kitchen. Theo couldn't help looking around in amazement. This _was_ different. There was a funny wooden bat thing lying on the hall table beside a very small red ball and a thing with buttons Theo dimly recognised as similar to the tele-whatsit at the entry to the Ministry of Magic. He looked up to see not candles but something that looked like a lamp with a round glass thing in the middle dangling from the ceiling. Set into the wall above the skirting were rectangular patches of something shiny with a pattern of slits and a switch in them. Terry took a left into a room at the back of the house, and Theo was completely lost when he followed her in. He recognised it as a kitchen - he could see pots, and the pantry, and someone's empty bowl on the table in the middle - but there were all sorts of box things. One might be an oven. He couldn't see a kettle anywhere, though. It was all utterly strange. Could this really be England?

"You look like Alice in Wonderland," came Mrs. Fairleigh's amused voice from behind him. "Have you never been to a house without magic? Are wizarding houses really that different?"

Theo didn't know the reference, but he caught her meaning. He turned to look at her. "It's just so - I mean - what do all these things _do_?"

Terry was at the bench, pouring some sort of cereal into a bowl. She looked over her shoulder, grinning. "See, this is what a normal house looks like."

"Well, I hope you can recognise these, at least." Mrs. Fairleigh reached up to fetch two mugs from a cupboard above the bench. "Oh, dear, I just remembered. Anne's getting the milk. Never mind, she'll probably be back before the jug boils. Fill it up, please, Terry?"

"Sure." Terry picked up a white shiny jug off the bench - where was the kettle? - and carried it over to the sink, where she filled it up with water.

" Is that a Muggle kettle?" asked Theo, fascinated.

"'S a jug," Terry said, "not a kettle. It's electric." She put it back on the bench and pushed some sort of cord into the back. A light on the top of the jug came on. How could people see all this and think it was a dreadful threat to the wizarding world? How could you look at this and not be curious?

A tousled head poked around the edge of the door.

"Mum, there's no shampoo in the bathroom."

"I got some yesterday, it's in the cupboard." Mrs. Fairleigh said without turning around.

The speaker - apparently a brown-haired boy taller than everyone in the room except Theo - abruptly focussed on him.

"Who're _you_?"

"This is Theodore Nott, he's a friend of your sisters'," replied his mother, who was now rummaging in a drawer looking for something. "Theodore, this is my son Edmund."

Theo gave him a nod. Edmund just stared. "Which sister?"

"Me and Anne," said Terry airily, now spooning some brown powder into a mug. "He's from school."

"You're a wizard?" Edmund's tone was an odd mix of accusation and envy.

"That's right."

"Hmph." Edmund gave him one final stare, then removed his head from around the door.

"Do pull up a chair," said Mrs. Fairleigh, having apparently found what she was looking for in the drawer. Terry was tapping the jug impatiently.

Theo sat down carefully. The chairs were different from what he was used to; thin metal bars with a seat and back covered with some shiny, smooth…stuff. Not like the wooden ones of home at all.

"Now, I seem to remember that you play music with Anne, is that right?" asked Mrs. Fairleigh.

Theo nodded, leaning his elbows on the table. The adrenaline was wearing off, and tiredness was creeping in. "Yeah. Yes, Mrs. Fairleigh." He yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. "Mmm.. Excuse me. I bumped into her in the corridor one day, and she had her flute with her, and there aren't too many other people at Hogwarts who play music, so…I decided to talk to her."

"You make it sound like a sacrifice," Anne's mother replied dryly.

Theo flushed. "Well - I mean - she's Muggle-born, and I didn't think - it's hard to learn that what everyone's always told you is wrong. I'm a bit surprised she even talked back, now. I was quite…ah…well, quite rude to her, actually."

"Like you were to me?" said Terry.

Theo gave her a look. "That was different. _You_ just barged in."

"You just didn't like me because I was in Gryffindor."

"Absolutely, and it's a prejudice I reserve the right to bring up at any time I choose."

Terry poked her tongue out at him. She could be very childish.

"Your Houses don't like each other very much, do they?" said Mrs. Fairleigh, now leaning back against the bench waiting for the jug to boil.

"That's because Gryffindors are fatally impetuous -" began Theo

"-and Slytherins are all just nasty," finished Terry.

"I'm hurt," Theo told her.

Terry shrugged. "You're a Slytherin."

"That's not very nice," her mother admonished.

"Neither is he."

Theo smirked, but he was distracted at that moment by a startled exclamation from behind.

"What the hell are you doing _here_?"

He turned his head to see Anne standing in the kitchen doorway, a blue box that he presumed to be the milk in her hand. She looked like she'd found .

"Wonderful to see you again, too," Theo told her. It was. It was stupid. Merely seeing someone walk in could not _possibly_ cheer him up this much. And he wasn't grinning. He wasn't. He _wasn't_.

"No - I mean, it's great you're here, but - you - oh, no." Anne's eyes flickered towards her mother. "What we talked about at the end of the term -"

"With a vengeance." Theo yawned again. He wanted to go over to her, but a) her mother was in the room and b)he wasn't sure he could manage standing up.

There had been a 'click!' from the direction of the jug - kettle - thing, and Terry was snapping her fingers imperiously. "Anne, the milk!"

"Wha - oh, yes." Anne waved it in her sister's direction, then collapsed onto one of the chairs. "Are you all right?"

Theo considered his reply. "Ah…for a given value of all right, yes."

"How did you get here?"

"Flew."

"All _night_?"

Theo nodded. Not guiltily. Absolutely not.

Anne shook her head. "You must be exhausted. Was it that urgent?"

Theo checked his watch. Was it really only ten past nine?

"Well, I'm supposed to be…swearing oaths I'd really rather not in about twelve hours, so yes, it was fairly important that I left."

Mrs. Fairleigh handed Theo a mug of tea, and he gave her a grateful smile. It was hot and sweet and helped stop his descent into sleep, which was the most important thing.

"I assumed you took sugar," she said, taking a seat. "Most of my son's friends do - well, the ones that drink tea."

Theo sipped it cautiously. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Fairleigh."

She waved it away. "Anne, do you want a cup?"

"Hmmm? Oh, no thanks Mum." Anne hooked one leg up over the other, the way Theo had seen her do so many times at Hogwarts. It meant she was getting ready for a serious talk.

"Did you get to say goodbye?" she asked quietly. Over by the bench, Terry was stirring her cup of - brown powder stuff and adding milk.

Theo looked down at his mug. He hadn't, properly. He couldn't, he rationalised hastily. Of course he couldn't have said goodbye properly because then they'd know he was going and where would he be?

"I left a note."

Mrs. Fairleigh seemed to find this amusing, but Anne just nodded. "How long do you think you've got before they find it?"

"Another hour, maybe two, but my trail should have gone cold by then. Unless someone saw me - and it was night - they can't track me; I don't care how many contacts they have in the Ministry, I didn't Floo or Apparate, so they have no way of knowing where I went."

"Can I establish something?" Mrs. Fairleigh interjected, setting her mug down on the table. "You flew on a broomstick, all last night, from…"

"Wales," Anne and Theo chimed. "North Wales," Theo added for the sake of clarity.

"Right. North Wales." Mrs. Fairleigh looked incredulous. Theo had no idea why; it wasn't a very long flight. Not compared to, say, the Atlantic crossing. "Wasn't there an easier way?"

"But that _was_ the easy way," Theo said. "I can't Apparate, I couldn't use the Floo Network, so how else was I supposed to leave?"

Mrs. Fairleigh just sighed. "Never mind. We poor Muggles just have other ways of doing things."

"Of course you do," Theo shrugged. Mrs. Fairleigh wasn't at all what he'd expected of a Muggle, even for Anne's mother. She was so…normal.

"Was there anyone you could send a message to?" Anne prompted.

"Dumbledore." Theo took another sip of tea. "I'm presuming he has an interest in the welfare of his students, so hopefully he can help me. Otherwise…"

"Two weeks is starting to seem like a long time, isn't it?" agreed Anne, biting her lip. "Well. It's funny, two years ago if you'd told me I'd get this involved in the war - that there'd _be_ a war -"

"Don't we all feel that way."

"You two are so _depressing_," complained Terry from her current perch on the windowsill. "It can't be all that bad. Stuff like that doesn't happen to us."

Theo almost choked on his tea. "I assure you, Terry, stuff like that most certainly can happen to us. There were a lot of people who thought the same way you do, but not any more."

"Why not?"

"They aren't around to do so," Anne said grimly.

Mrs. Fairleigh set her mug down on the table loudly. "All right. At this point I am very confused, so would you two mind starting from the beginning and explaining why Theodore is here and what, precisely, it has to do with this war? I'm getting the general outline but the details are escaping me."

Anne folded her hands in her lap, looking penitent. That was a new one; Theo had seen meek, quiet, and even frightened, but not penitent. "Sorry, Mum. I keep forgetting that you don't really know about…all this." Her gesture took in Theo and the whole war.

"And why don't I?" her mother said.

"Yeah, Anne, why haven't you talked to Mum about it?" echoed Terry from the windowsill. Theo shot her a quelling look. It was behaviour he'd seen from Lucas and Celia over the summer; one sibling moving in for the kill when another was in their parents' bad books.

Anne appeared to think the same. "Be quiet, Terry. Because…ah…" she couldn't quite meet her mother's eyes. "It wasn't really your business up until now, it was nobody's business except Theo's, and what you didn't know…"

Her mother's eyebrows lifted. Theo winced for Anne. "I see. What we didn't know wouldn't hurt us?"

Anne gave a half-shrug. "Umm…yeah. I mean, you knew about the war, because of the Martins, so it wasn't like you weren't forewarned, just…um. Yes."

"Well, why don't we start from the beginning then?" said Mrs. Fairleigh.

Theo exchanged glances with Anne. He was willing to explain, he just sensed this had the potential for huge embarrassment.

_Especially_ with Terry in the room.

* * *

The first thing Anne had noticed about Theo, once she'd got over the shock of him being there at all, was the weariness that seemed to hover around him like a cloud. It made her want to yawn, and she was well awake. That, and the confusion. He looked like someone skating on ice in complete fog - no real idea where he was going, or if he'd get there, just painfully aware of how thin the ice under him was.

Together they stumbled through an explanation to Anne's mother as to why, precisely, Theo had turned up on the Fairleighs' doorstep. Theo kept yawning; Anne caught herself holding his hand and dropped it hastily before her mother noticed. Terry had sat on her windowsill and been…provoking, but she'd kept her mouth shut about the important things.

The conversation had been cut off when Theo had fallen soundly asleep with his head on the table. Anne had looked around at Terry, and when she looked back Theo was dead to the world.

"He was tired, wasn't he?" commented her mother. "Poor boy. It sounds like he was lucky not to fall asleep on the way here." She stood and began to collect the mugs.

Theo was slumped on the table, fringe hanging half over his face. Anne sat on her hands. The sun had moved while they'd been talking; it was streaming in through Terry's window, sparking glints in Theo's dark hair. He looked young, Anne thought absent-mindedly. Did she look that young when she slept? Was it possible that either of them could _be_ that young anymore? Sixteen wasn't very old, in the Muggle world. Not very old at all.

"Thanks, Mum," she said. "I mean - for listening, and all that. I know this must be a bit strange."

"Just a little," agreed Mary Fairleigh, who was now stacking the cups in the dishwasher. "Terry, can you go and get your brother? He hasn't finished emptying the dishwasher."

"Sure." Terry slipped with a thump onto the floor and breezed out of the room.

"Right. Anne, do you think we can manage to move Theodore onto the couch? I don't think he's going to be very comfortable if he sleeps like that."

"Uh. No. No, probably not," Anne said. This was…weird. She was prepared for sharp looks and sharper questions, but calm practicality was unsettling.

Between Anne and her mother they got Theo on his feet and moving towards the living room. Anne didn't think he was conscious, precisely, but he was walking. Sort of. As soon as she guided him onto the couch he flopped down like a rag doll. Anne propped his legs up onto the couch. Behind her she heard her mother's footsteps tapping out of the room, so she took the opportunity to push Theo's hair out of his face. And if her hand maybe lingered, there wasn't anyone to notice. Theo looked so out of place on their old couch. It had been white once, before they had moved to Essex - before her parents had had children - but not it was faded ivory, and it sat comfortingly against the wall next to the bay window. One window was open, and the breeze Anne had noticed on her way to the shops was curling in, making the curtains shiver.

Theo didn't look comfortable, Anne thought, or a faded shade of pale, like the furniture. (Not the walls. Her parents had repainted the house when they moved in, expressing a horror of white walls. Anne agreed entirely.) Theo was all too odd lying their on the couch with his dark robes and slightly-too-long dark hair and shaded circles under his eyes. Anne let her hand drift down his cheek. For five years she'd had two worlds. The world of magic, and the world of Muggles. Theo was magic brought home and lying asleep on her couch. Seeing him again was worth the strangeness, but - that didn't remove it.

"I brought a blanket," came her mother's voice from behind her. "Looks like being quite a warm day, but you never know."

Anne jumped about a foot in the air. Only the sight of Theo prevented her from letting out an exclamation, too. She whirled around defensively.

"Oh. Mum. I didn't hear you." Theo seemed well asleep, but she kept her voice low. Her mother was…dammit, she _was_ smirking, and Anne tried her best not to blush. "Here, let me." She spread the blanket over Theo carefully - not too carefully, not with her mother watching - and followed her out of the room. She clearly wanted a word.

Eddie was in the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher and singing along to the radio he'd switched on, so Anne followed her mother on down the hall. They stopped in front of the small laundry-cum-broom closet.

"So." Mary Fairleigh tilted her head to regard her daughter. Anne felt herself squaring her shoulders, and fixed her eyes on a flaking crack in the paint of the door. "What are you going to do about this, Anne?"

Her friend, her responsibility. It was a better start than she'd expected.

"Theo needs to wait here until he gets a reply from Dumbledore," Anne began. "He'll know what to do, I hope; it shouldn't take very long. Owls are much faster than Muggle post. We'll be safe. We should be. No one knows he's here."

That had been another area they'd avoided; safety. Theo had tried to plough bluntly into it but Anne had skirted the area. She wanted Theo here, and safe, and that wasn't likely if Mary Fairleigh decided her family was endangered by him.

"How much danger is he really in?" her mother asked.

"Do you remember what they did to the Martins?" Anne replied, fiddling with the pocket of her jeans. "Because comparatively, that would be friendly."

"Anne…" Her mother sounded as tired as Theo had looked. "I know the wizards are at war, but…why have you been dragged into it? Why our neighbours?"

"I'm Muggle-born." Had she been this naïve? Probably. "That's like saying…Mum, why did your dad get killed in World War II? Why was your mum a refugee? It was about them being Jewish, not what they did. "

Her mother folded her arms. "Anne."

Anne looked up to meet her eyes.

Mary Fairleigh stared right back. "I know who your Theodore is, and why he's here, and why he can't be anywhere else. And it all sounds wildly strange and improbable, and I would _much_ rather it wasn't happening, but I do trust your judgement about your own friends. I just want you to answer three questions for me."

Anne nodded. "Okay."

_Oh, god. Here we go_.

"First. What do you think is going to happen next?"

"Dumbledore will know somewhere safe," Anne replied readily. Their headmaster seemed to be omniscient; hopefully it was not an illusion. "He'll want to keep a student safe, and school starts again in a week and a half."

"Good." Her mother nodded. "Theodore seems to be a nice young man. So, two. How safe are we?"  
Anne was ready for that one, too. "Pretty safe." She couldn't hedge now. "I don't…Theo flew here, so I don't think he could have been followed, and nobody except us knows he's here. If the worst came to the worst, we've got that Portkey. And I think if…they…were going to come, they'd be here by now." At the beginning of the summer every Muggle-born family had been quietly issued with a Portkey that took them to Hogwarts. It could only be used by family members. Anne didn't know if the mysterious Order of the Phoenix was behind it or the Ministry, but either way it was a lifeline. (Rumours had leaked out in the _Prophet_ about the Order, and Theo had told her what he knew; apparently, they were the people who had believed Dumbledore the year before. The ones who had rescued Harry Potter and his friends at the Ministry of Magic a year ago.)

The lines on her mother's forehead grew more shallow. "I just hope this Portkey thing works, if we need it. Now, three."

Anne _knew_ what the question would be, and she tried to keep her gaze steady. The fact that she ended up examining one of her mother's earrings was beside the point.

"Are you going out with him?"

Anne could feel herself going red. She coughed. "Er…wellll…um, no, I wouldn't call it that, exactly, I mean, it's not like we're going on dates or anything, you know, um…yeah."

Her mother laughed. "Is that a yes?"

Anne muttered something that could be taken for affirmation, if closely examined. She hadn't realised the carpet was so worn down this end of the hall. It must be because of the back door.

"For goodness' sake, there's nothing _wrong_ with it." Her mother sounded very amused. "We knew you'd be getting a boyfriend sometime. Have you been seeing him very long?"

The back door was getting a bit flaky, too. It needed painting. "Yes. No. Not really. I mean, I've been friends with him for ages - well, a year and a half - but we've only been…um…yeah…for a little while. And it's not like anyone knows. Really. Apart from Terry. And some people in…well, a few people, but no one in my class. Or Theo's. I s'pose that'll be different, this year. Theo's blown his cover a bit."

"Anne, it's all right, really." She looked at her mother again, and was relieved to see only a gentle smile. "If you discount all this business with the war, he seems like a very polite boy. Although he did seem a bit surprised by me."

_That_ was explicable. Anne shrugged. "Oh, that's just because you're the first Muggle he's met, and he's spent his whole life being told Muggles aren't proper people, and of course you _are_, really, so he was surprised."

"Is that why he commented that I was just like a witch?"

Anne had never been embarrassed by Theo before - embarrassed for him, that was - but that had come close. "Yes."

Her mother shook her head. "Stop looking so nervous, I wasn't angry about it." Her gaze grew thoughtful. "_We're_ proper people?"

Anne reviewed what she'd said. "I meant - oh, Mum, I didn't mean it like that - but I'm not a Muggle, and -"

"I know." Her mother put a hand on her shoulder. "I know you and Terry are different from us, dear, but it's just hard to deal with sometimes."

Anne nearly threw herself at her mother. "Mum, I don't _want_ to be different to you and Dad. I never did. It just…happened."

Her mother patted her on the back, holding her tightly. "I know. We're proud of you both. Even if you do bring home a boyfriend with homicidal relatives -"

"Mum!"

Mary Fairleigh chuckled.


	3. Sforzando

**A/N:** This took a little longer to edit than I thought it would, but here we are. I'm having issues with the formatting on this site, AGAIN, so please ignore any funny symbols. I think I got all of them, but you never know.

**Chapter Three: Sforzando **

* * *

Theo was sure that his bed at his uncle and aunt's had never been _this_ uncomfortable. Of course, it wasn't the bed he was used to, the one he'd slept in as long as he could remember, but it had been more comfortable than this.

Come to think of it, this wasn't his uncle and aunt's. For one thing, he was on a couch, with a blanket over him. For another, he didn't recognise this room at all. It looked a bit like a living room - well, armchairs, bookshelves, coffee table - but the black boxes on the shelves and the big one with the screen in the corner were utterly strange. As was the lamp. Theo sat up with a jerk, the blanket falling away. Where on earth -

The memories failed to spring back, but trickled slowly in. Last night, his father, his aunt, leaving, arriving at Anne's house -

Anne's house! He looked around. Outside the window, he could see a very sedate-looking piece of lawn surrounded by a hedge. What was unusual was Terry and another, smaller girl, kicking some white-and-black Quaffle-sized ball at each other. They dashed past the window and then back again, jockeying for control.

The rest of the room was normal, sort of, but there were all those strange boxes and things that didn't quite fit. Not to mention - he looked up - a lamp hanging on a wire from the ceiling?

Where was Anne, anyway? He got up off the couch, dropping the blanket carelessly back on it. One of the armchairs bore the dents of a curled-up body and a book he recognised lying face-down on the arm. The coffee-table was graced by a half-written essay on (he went over to look) Charms. Anne's brown-and-white striped quill, the old chewed one, was lying on top. She must have just left. He could see his trunk and broomstick beside the armchair; someone must have brought them in from under the bush outside where he'd stashed them. Theo checked his watch. Four o'clock. He'd slept most of the day away.

Theo headed for the door, but paused in the doorway, uncertain. This was a Muggle house - could he find his way around?

_Of course, how different can it be? _

As it turned out, he didn't have to. Anne's brother was standing in the hall, bouncing the red ball Theo had noticed when he'd first entered off the wall. He had the handle of the thing with buttons held up to his ear, and was talking into it.

"No problem. Are you coming to practice tomorrow? What? You have to, it's our last game on Sunday! Oh, fine, as long as you're at the game." Eddie Fairleigh was somewhat taller than his older sister, but more heavily built as well. He glanced up at Theo, and his eyebrows shot up. Theo stared back. _He_ wasn't the one in those strange Muggle clothes talking into...something.

Eddie replaced the ball on the chest-of-drawers. "Sorry, gotta go. See you on Sunday. Yeah, will do. Bye."

He replaced the handle back on the thing with buttons - tele - something. Telephone. That was it. Anne had said they were like the Floo network, except you couldn't travel by them.

"You're that Theodore Nott bloke, aren't you?" Eddie said accusatorily. Theo wondered what he'd done.

"Yes. So?"

"So nothing." Eddie shrugged dismissively. "You're a wizard, aren't you? One of the lot that've got that war on."

"You're very good at stating the obvious." Theo let himself lash out. It was relaxing.

Eddie folded his arms. "Why is it you lot think you're so much better than us? Anne and Terry went off to that school of yours, and they come back all on their high horses because they can do magic."  
Open hostility was more what Theo had been expecting, after all. But he couldn't help snorting.

"I've never seen Anne on a high horse. Maybe once. What've you got against wizards, if you want to start picking fights?"

"Who says I'm picking a fight?" Eddie glared.

Theo looked him up and down. "You. Actually. But I'd rather not, so if you _don't_ mind, could you tell me where your sister is?"

"Which sister?"

Theo gave him his best withering look. "Your _older_ sister. Who displays a great deal more sense than you are."

"What are you, her boyfriend?" Eddie shot back.

"Would you like to make something of it?" said Theo icily.

Eddie's jaw dropped. "You _are_?"

Theo sighed. He needed to talk to Anne. Maybe she could make some sense of the world. "Just tell me where she is. Please." Courtesy to a provocative Muggle wasn't easy, but he couldn't duel the boy.

Eddie unfolded his arms, but he didn't look any more relaxed.

"What on earth do you want do go out with Anne for?"

"Why on earth not?" Theo didn't understand _that_ attitude. Anne was...Anne.

Eddie just glowered.

"Do you think it would be too much of a strain to tell me where she is?"

"In her room."

"And that would be"

Anne's brother looked mutinous, but he grudgingly gave directions. "Upstairs and first on your right."  
"_Thank-_you." Theo resisted adding that that hadn't been to difficult, now had it?

Eddie gave him a nod. "No problem," he ground out before turning and walking out the front door.

_What's his problem?_

_Anne said he didn't like wizards because he wasn't one. _

_Idiot. _

Theo was almost disappointed by the stairs. They wereâ€stairs. Just like any he'd seen before. Much like everything else in this Muggle house, in fact; the same as the wizarding world in many ways...apart from the ones where it was wildly different. Like the stiff, unmoving photos, or the funny lighting. How anyone could find this threatening enough to wizarding society to go to war over it was beyond him.

The door to Anne's room was half-open, so Theo tapped it quietly.

"Come in," she called back. "That you, Theo?"

"Decided to become a Seer, have you?" he asked as he entered the room.

Anne was standing in front of a desk, which was covered with parchment and books. She looked up with a dry smile.

"No, but you knocked."

"So?"

"I forgot, you don't have siblings. My mum thinks that children have a piece of their brain that doesn't grow in until they're about fifteen."

"Which piece?"

"You know, the part to do with knocking on doors, putting things away, picking your clothes up, doing your chores"

Theo nodded. "I can believe that after the last two summers."

Anne began to pile books and parchment on top of each other; there seemed to be some order, but Theo couldn't work out what it was. "How on earth did you cope with your cousins?"

"I locked the door."

"Don't I wish I could do that." She cast a glance at the door, which Theo had shut behind him. "Ah. D'you think you could open the door, Theo?"

Theo raised an eyebrow, but complied. "Why- oh. I see. House rule?" It was hard to remember that they didn't _have_ to hide.

Anne gave a half-shrug, blushing. "Well - no - but...you know."

Theo did. "Shall I just stay over here, then?"

Anne shot him a look. "Don't be silly."

He gave her wide-eyed innocence back. "You brought propriety up."

She crossed the room to look furtively out the door, then pulled him into the corner behind it and leaned up to kiss him. It was such un-Anne-ish behaviour that Theo barely had the presence of mind for the task at hand, which was, of course, demonstrating that he was _extremely_ glad to see her again.  
  
It was fortunate that Anne's sisters were such loud children, because if they hadn't been giggling and racing each other up the stairs, Theo and Anne probably wouldn't have heard them coming. As it was, they managed to be a reasonably decorous distance away from each other when Terry poked her head in the door, although Anne's ponytail was hopeless.

"You're awake, Theo," Terry chirped. "Good. Has Anne given you the letters? I wanted to wake you up when they got here, but Mum wouldn't let me. You haven't met Nicola, have you? This is my little sister Nic. She's eight."

"Are you from the magic school?" asked the little girl standing next to Terry. She was small, even for an eight year old, with Terry's puppy-like brown eyes and an overdose of Anne's freckles. "Anne and Terry go there."

"Yes, I'm from the, er, magic school," Theo told her. Family. Anne had so _much_ of it.

"I want to go there when I'm big," Nicola said confidently. "Eddie wants me to stay home with him, but I'd rather learn magic."

Theo couldn't help smiling at the idea of Terry (or any first-year) being "big", but nodded gravely. "It's quite a lot of fun."

Anne must have given Terry some sort of signal, because she put one hand on Nic's shoulder. "Come on, let's go and find the crayons, Nic."

"Okay," Nicola said. Terry grinned cheerfully at them before steering her sister down the hallway. Theo recognised the signs; having failed to find enough interest in him, Nicola's mind had moved on to the next new thing.

"I wish she wouldn't keep saying that," he was surprised to hear Anne say. He turned to see her biting her lip. "It'sâ€such a big fall to set yourself up for, and Nic's not- she hasn't shown anything we could call magic."

"She's not likely to, then, at this age," Theo admitted. "Why does it matter so much? Your brother and parents are Muggles."

Anne shrugged. "Just...well, Eddie set all his hopes on getting a Hogwarts letter once I did, and it's never...it's never been the same, since he didn't. Not that he doesn't like me, it's just - maybe it's just because I'm away so much, I don't know. But I don't want Nic to have that fall, too, and she will have had so much longer to set herself up for it."

"Tell her she's not a witch, then."

"And if I'm wrong?"

"You're wrong, and she won't mind a little fallibility."

"I can tell her all I want, but...what's the phrase? Hope springs eternal. She won't _believe_ until it doesn't come, and then comes the disappointment."

"Tell her anyway," Theo offered. "If it helps - I don't like seeing you get upset about your family. I'm supposed to have the monopoly on that around here."

That brought a wavering smile. "I reserve the right to get as upset about my family as I feel like. Speaking of that" Anne reached behind her, to the desk, and picked up two letters.

"Here." She held them out. "These arrived about midday. I think one of them is from - is from your father."

Theo stiffened, and almost dropped the letters. "I see."

"The other one's from Hogwarts," she offered in reassurance. "You might...would you like to sit down?"

"Don't sound so serious," Theo told her weakly, but his knees gave out just as he made it to the end of the bed, the only place to sit in the room. Anne pulled the desk chair over to sit herself. He would have preferred it if she'd sat next to him, but then, sitting next to him on the bed was probably pushing it.

"Dumbledore's first," he said firmly, tearing it open. He didn't want to think about the other one.  
Anne leant over to read it as he did, bracing herself on his shoulder.

_Dear Mr. Nott, _

_You are quite correct in your assessment of your current situation. Someone will be coming to pick you up from your current location, assuming you have arrived safely, at five p.m. on the twenty-first. They will be someone you have met before, but do ensure their identity before you depart. They will be taking you to a safe location for the remaining week and a bit of the holidays. I believe you may be safe where you are, but as you mentioned, staying would only endanger the residents in the event of your discovery.  
Yours sincerely, _

_Albus Dumbledore. _

"Five o'clock. And it's four already." Anne sighed. "I wish you could stay for a bit. It's just - I don't get to see you all that much at school, and it'd be nice to not have to pretend I don't know you most of the time."

"You won't have to, this year," he pointed out quietly. He'd been trying not to think about it, but the knowledge was like a black hole, sucking everything towards it. He'd left. He'd left everything behind him, except Anne and the DA, and the unknown path he'd been heading towards for years was finally at his feet. Walking it was going to take some doing. "Sharing a dorm with Malfoy is going to be...interesting."

"You could come and be an honorary Hufflepuff," she suggested with a grin. "I'd sponsor you."  
The look on his face must have been utterly horrified, because she laughed aloud. "Come on, it wouldn't be that bad."

"I," said Theo with all the dignity he could muster "am a Slytherin, and I will _not_ be chased out of my own House by some jumped-up Death Eater's brat!"

"I thought that was you," she commented innocently.

Theo eyed her. "Hah."

"There's the other letter, too," Anne added, growing serious. She looked down.

Theo swallowed, all humour gone. "Oh. Yes."

He stared at the envelope, unable to tear his eyes away from the familiar script. He'd received so many letters like this, over his first five years at school. All of them eagerly awaited, or mostly, because when you were a homesick eleven-year-old your father's letters were your only link to home. And when you were older, they were something private, in a world where there was nowhere and nothing truly private, except for your music.

Which was between you and your father, too.

Now the letter, like so many others, resembled nothing so much (in Theo's mind, anyway) as one of those Muggle bombs. Something that might explode at any minute.

"Are you going to open it?" Anne asked. She sounded tentative, and when Theo looked up, she looked down at her lap. "Never mind."

"Yes. Yes, I should," Theo told her, told himself.

It was no more difficult to open than any other letter, except in his mind. Everything around him was suddenly very distracting. It was so much easier to take in the feel of the chair he was sitting on , Anne hovering beside him, the breeze from the window, the thuds and laughter drifting in from Terry and her sister's game on the lawn. Anne's carpet was almost exactly the colour of slate tiles. It reminded him of the roof at home. Home. Dad.

The scrawling strokes of his father's handwriting had never been easy to read, but today it seemed even more indecipherable. The black lines seemed to waver out of focus. Perhaps - no, almost certainly - because he was afraid of their message.

_Theodore,_

_I know you are probably having doubts at this point. Everyone does, sooner or later; I certainly did. But you must understand that we are doing the right thing, for our future, for _your_ future. You've always said this is what you wanted to do; the consequences of backing down now are much greater than you can imagine. I have lost enough people I care for. I don't want to lose you, too. Come back while there's still time. Come back. _

_Your father always, _

_Eric_

The lines had blurred too much to read, now. Theo reached up to scrub his cheeks with his sleeve. Theory and practice were very different, weren't they? Very different. Theory did not feel like you were ripping pieces of yourself out. Theory didn't make you want to run downstairs and grab your broomstick and fly home immediately, damn the consequences.

But theory kept you sitting right where you were, because theory told you that there were promises you could not make, and oaths you could not swear, and that when it came to the breaking point, as Theo had always known it would, things you could not do. Even for your family, even for your father.

"I _deserve_ to be a Death Eater," he said roughly, crumpling the letter up. "What did I do to deserve that? If he had doubts, why didn't he listen to them? Why do I have to make this choice? Even if I wanted to go back it's too late to get there in time, and he made it sound like...like it was _my_ fault, like he was the one being forced to choose. I just...I want to go home."

The real question was, why him, and the answer, Theo knew, was because the world isn't fair. But knowing didn't make it feel fairer.

"This is probably not very helpful," Anne said cautiously from beside him, "but I don't really think blaming your father is very fair. Or a very good idea."

That was a good excuse to snap, and Theo was happy to take it.

"Why shouldn't I?" he burst out, throwing the crumpled letter down onto the bed and springing up. "Why the hell not? _He_ decided to be a Death Eater, _he_ decided that it would be a marvellous idea if I was to, _he's _the one with the stupid prejudices, _he's _the one who went to Azkaban, why shouldn't I blame him? I didn't choose this -"

"Yes, you did," Anne said, standing up and crossing her arms. "You chose. Not him. I don't - you know where my sympathies are, but you can't - this isn't just your personal tragedy! That's why you're so eager to pretend it is, because you know bloody well that this is going to hurt your father as much as you, and if you can just blame him, you don't have to think about that!"

"And what makes you think that it's any of your business?" Theo shot back.

"Someone has to talk sense into you," Anne replied mutinously. "I don't care if you blame your father for being a Death Eater. Do it as much as you want. But from everything I've ever seen, you can't accuse him of doing anything except trying to take the best care of you he can. I don't - oh, God, I shouldn't be the one reading this part of the script. You should. Just don't start saying things you're going to regret later."

"You're not my conscience," Theo snarled.

"I'm not trying to be. I'm trying to be your - oh, I don't know. It's called advice. Take it or leave it." Anne folded her arms more tightly around herself. "I hate this war."

Theo felt a twinge of guilt, but stood his ground anyway. "Anyway, you have no right to tell me what to think about my father."

"I've never tried to tell you what to think. _Ever_. I've spent ages deliberately not telling you what I think you should think, because you've had enough problems anyway, and I knew that would make it easy for you to blame me instead of thinking. But, you know, welcome to the real world, because this is how relationships work. Both ways. You were giving me advice on how to live with my family about five minutes ago, why can't I do the same?"

"That's different -" Theo protested.

"It is _not_!"

"Your family aren't trying to get you killed!"

"Neither are yours. But if you mean I don't have any problems with them, think again. My brother has been holding a grudge for five years because I'm a witch, my little sister's headed the same way, my parents don't understand what's really going on, oh, and let's not forget about all the fanatic murderers out there who'd quite like to wipe anyone like me off the face of the earth. You do not have a monopoly on problems in your life!"

"Well, neither do you!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!

"_Fine!_"

The silence that echoed around Anne's room was deafening. Theo realised just how loud they had actually been speaking. Well, shouting. If it came down to it. Anne had her hands on her hips now, and she was flushed with anger. Theo's eyes flicked to the mirror above the dresser. He didn't look much calmer.

They just stood and stared at each other for a moment more. Theo swallowed, feeling more than a little silly. "Erâ€anything else you'd like to get off your chest, while we're at it?"

Anne let her hands drop. "Ah - no. No, I think that was pretty much everything wrong with my life at the moment. You?"

"No, no, I think I covered everything."

"Good, good."

"Yes, well, we got that out of the way."

"I suppose we did." Anne gave a wavering smile, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears. "I wonder how much of that my family heard?"

Theo glanced towards the open door. "Probably quite a lot."

"That's what I thought." She was still pink, but it seemed to be from embarrassment now. "I didn't say anything too awful, did I?"

Theo mentally reviewed the discussion. Disagreement. Fight. "I think you accused your parents of not understanding, but that's nothing out of the ordinary."

"Well, if parents understood us, they wouldn't be doing their job right."

"Very true." Theo coughed. "Er. Sorry."

"No problem. I mean, yeah, sorry."

"You don't have to apologise," Theo told her ruefully. "I - you put up with quite enough from my life, as it is."

"You put up with Terry," Anne pointed out. "And I mean, between Terry and Death Eaters, I know which I'd be more afraid of."

"Absolutely. Terry, every time," Theo said, straight-faced.

An indignant screech came from just outside the door. Anne flushed redder, but held out a hand. "Come on. It's not very long until five o'clock. I'll show you our piano. We've got some great Muggle song music."

Theo took it, twining his fingers with hers. "I'd love to look at it."

Anne smiled at him, which was quite enough to make up for Terry's clearly audible mutter of "They're so _sappy_."

* * *

Anne was feeling a curious sense of dislocation. Theo here, in her house, was strange enough, but leaning on the piano watching him sight-read music from _Les Miserables_ in her own living room was utterly strange. This didn't happen, not while she was awake. Nor, in her real life, did Nicola skitter downstairs to ask if they were not shouting anymore, and how did Theo know the piano? Anne had asked her how loud they had been, and her youngest sister had told her truthfully "really really loud." She wasn't looking forward to speaking with her mother, and the subject was bound to come up. Terry had perched herself on the table in the hall and was chatting nineteen to the dozen to a Muggle friend on the phone. Half of this was the essence of normality, and the other half was Theo thumping out _Do You Hear The People Sing? _the way it was meant to be played, reminding her about the time she and her friends had enchanted Umbridge's desk, quirking his mouth in a smile and pushing the hair out of his eyes. That was normality, too, but not the same sort, and the convergence of the two was unexpected and unsettling.

But the practical part of her remembered that Theo was leaving again in half an hour, and they'd just had what amounted to a serious fight, so she sat on the arm of the couch and explained about the music, and laughed at Theo's reaction to some of the songs (which were pretty risqué, if it came to it.)

The doorbell rang at precisely five o'clock, causing Theo to play a horrible discord, Anne to jump, and Eddie to saunter out of the kitchen to answer it. Terry had got off the phone and gone back upstairs some time before. Anne caught Theo's eye, and they both hurried towards the door. Whoever it was, Anne thought, if it was anyone from the wizarding world, Eddie was the last person she wanted answering the door.

They got to the doorway in time to see Eddie opening the front door.

"Yeah?" he said, with all the eloquence of adolescence.

"Good afternoon," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "I take it this is the Fairleigh household?"

"Yeah," Eddie said again, warily. "Are you one of Anne and Terry's lot?" Given that she was wearing Muggle clothing, Anne wondered how he'd known.

"Professor!" Anne said with relief. She didn't want Theo to leave, but that didn't mean she felt relaxed. "Co-"

"Good afternoon, Professor," Theo said politely, surreptitiously grabbing Anne's arm. "Come to check that Terry's staying out of swamps?"

Professor McGonagall frowned at him. "As long as you fish her out, I'm sure she'll be fine."

The grip on her arm let up, and Anne restrained herself from elbowing Theo in the ribs.

"Come in, Professor," she said. "How are you?"

"Quite well, thank you, Miss Fairleigh," said her teacher, stepping into the house. Eddie had taken the opportunity to slip back into the kitchen. "Yourselves?"

"Much better than I'd expected to be," Theo replied. "Did Terry tell you I pulled her out of the east corridor swamp?"

"She did, Mr. Nott. Under some pressure, I must admit, and after swearing me to secrecy. She takes your security very seriously."

_Checking_, Anne realised as she rubbed her arm. _He was checking it _was_ Professor McGonagall before I just invited her in_.

"Not without reason," she commented out loud. "You're taking Theo somewhere safe, aren't you, Professor?"

"Yes, Miss Fairleigh." She addressed Theo. "You seem to have got yourself into quite a situation, Mr. Nott."

"He does seem to have," said Anne's mother from the kitchen doorway. "Professor McGonagall, isn't it? I don't think you'd remember me, but we met at the briefing for Muggle parents about five years ago. I'm Mary Fairleigh."

"Yes, of course," Professor McGonagall said, shaking hands. "A pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Fairleigh. Thank you for allowing Mr. Nott to stay here for the day."

"It was no trouble. I see no reason why my children shouldn't have their friends over for the day." Her eyes flickered to Theo. "Whatever the reason for their visits."

"If I ever come again, I don't think it will be quite as urgent. But thank you very much for having me." Theo's tone was sincere.

"As I said, it was no trouble. Come and visit us sometime when things are calmer. I'm sure Anne would like you to."

On the scale of maternal teasing, this was fairly mild, but in front of Professor McGonagall Anne blushed, muttered something approximating agreement, and changed the subject.

"Theo, do you want to get -"

"My trunk, yes, I'd better," he agreed. "I saw it just in there-" He turned to Professor McGonagall "Professor, where are we going?"

"You'll see when you get there, Mr. Nott." When Theo opened his mouth again, she added, "It's much safer for all concerned if nobody else knows. We're going by Portkey." She extracted, of all things, a fork from her coat pocket. "You can still send letters by owl, you know, as long as you're careful about what you write."

Anne thought back to all the letters of this summer and last, and hoped Professor McGonagall didn't mean what Anne thought she meant. _She wasn't smiling. Was she?_

_My imagination is working overtime today. _

Professor McGonagall looked at her watch and announced that the Portkey was set to leave in two minutes, so they'd best be ready. There was just time to grab Theo's trunk and hug him goodbye, even if it was embarrassing in front of her mother (not to mention her teacher!) Terry yelled a quick farewell down the stairs, Professor McGonagall nodded, and they were gone.

Anne's mother blinked at the sudden space in the hallway. "Magic really is amazing. I wonder what that feels like?"

"No idea," Anne told her. The sun was pouring in the stained glass in the door, lighting the hall in violet and green and gold. Theo had come and gone, and it had been less than a day.

"For a quiet day at home, it's been very busy, hasn't it?" said her mother. "I hope you and Theodore had time to make up before he went."

Anne cleared her throat and looked away. "We were very loud, weren't we?"

"Fairly audible, yes," her mother told her.

"That was the first time we - I mean - we weren't really fighting with each other, we just - we sort of needed to clear the air a bit. I don't like shouting."

"I completely understand," her mother said soothingly. "Now that's all done, would you like to peel some potatoes for me?"

It was the sort of question that wasn't a question. Anne rolled her eyes, nodded, and followed her mother into the kitchen. The "quiet day at home" seemed, in retrospect, more like a week.


	4. Mysterioso

**Chapter Four: Mysterioso**

"Where are we?" asked Theo, looking around. He and Professor McGonagall had appeared in the garden of what seemed to be a very ordinary house, with nothing to tell him where in Britain he might be.

"You're going to be staying with your aunt," McGonagall informed him. "It's the last place anyone would look right now, and it should be safe enough for the next week. Especially since I doubt many people will remember you _have_ an aunt."

Theo froze. "But I just ran away from my aunt's house!" And this wasn't Wales, or not the part of Wales he'd come from –

"For goodness' sake, Mr Nott, we wouldn't send you back to Karena Amberley. Your _other _aunt."

Theo stared at her, simply confused. "My other aunt? I only have one aunt!" McGonagall's brows rose sharply, and she was about to speak when a voice came from across the lawn.

"Professor, you made it on time." Theo looked past his teacher to see an unusually tall brown-haired witch emerging from the house. She looked vaguely familiar. "I hope there weren't any problems."

"None at all, Mrs O'Neill," said McGonagall crisply. "Although we have discovered that your brother-in-law neglected to inform your nephew of your existence."

"I'm not surprised." The witch crossed the lawn, giving them a friendly nod. "He didn't even speak to me at Addie's funeral, after all. You must be Theodore." The last was addressed to Theo.

He nodded, unable to think of anything to say. "Uh...yeah. Yes. Umm...thank you for offering to, er, take me in." Courtesies were safe. He could rely on them.

"Oh, well, it wasn't so much offering as an old friend asking me if I wouldn't mind hosting Adrienne's son for a week," the witch replied with a laugh. "I couldn't say no to that. I hadn't seen you since you were eighteen months old."

"We'll leave Mr Nott to your care, then, Mrs. O'Neill," McGonagall interjected. She turned to Theo. "The O'Neills will make sure you get on board the Hogwarts Express safely. Someone from...someone will be around to check on you in the next week. I assume your owl will find you here. Which reminds me." She pulled out her wand, and placed the tip lightly against Theo's forehead. He automatically shied away, but not before she spoke.

"_Nunquam indagando_."

Theo felt the light shiver of a spell running over him, but nothing else. His - aunt, was it? nodded approvingly. "I should have thought of that myself."

"Wha-" Theo got out.

"A spell to stop anyone following an owl to you," McGonagall told him. "That's the last thing we need."

"Oh. Good," Theo managed. "Er - thank you, Professor. For...well...you know." He shrugged. "Helping me."

She allowed herself a slight smile. "Really, Mr Nott, do you think we'd permit a student to get himself killed before he'd sat his NEWTs?" Her face darkened. "We've lost enough students as it is. Do endeavour to stay alive. I'm sure Professor Snape has told you that already."

"Oh yes," Theo said.

His teacher turned to the brown-haired witch. "Good day, Mrs O'Neill, Mr Nott," she said politely.

"You as well," replied Theo's apparent aunt. Before he opened his mouth to answer in kind, Theo's last connection to anything he knew had Apparated away.

"I'll take that, shall I?" said his new relative, lifting Theo's trunk with a flick of her wand. He picked up his broomstick, feeling very lost. "Come on inside now and I'll show you your room. We've got plenty of space," she continued as Theo followed her silently in the back door. "I don't suppose you'd know, but my three all left home years ago. My eldest daughter's got two children of her own, now. They come and play here sometimes. Watch the doorframe."

Theo ducked obediently under it, missing his head by an inch or so. Being tall was a pain, sometimes. They had passed through a tidy kitchen and were now proceeding down a hallway.

"Here we are." They turned into one of the rooms. "This was my son Liam's room when he was living with us. Take down the Quidditch posters if you want, I've always meant to get rid of the things but Liam's never come back to claim them." The room was small, but it reminded Theo painfully of his own. The similarities were superficial - a faded Puddlemere United poster next to a Ballycastle Bats one, which was even older, a desk with neatly stacked books, a bed next to the window. But it felt like a dim echo of home.  
He was appalled to find his voice sounding rusty. "This may sound a little odd, ma'am, but - what's your name?"

His aunt, who was brushing the desk off with a frown, turned to face him.

"We haven't been properly introduced, have we?" Her voice was soft, and a little sad. "I'm Monique O'Neill. Monique Jugson was my maiden name. Adrienne Jugson was my older sister. Your mother."

Operating once again on the old courtesies, Theo held out his hand. "Theodore Nott."

His aunt took it with a smile. "Oh, but you do remind me of Adrienne. All legs and arms and quiet voice. Mind you, none of our family has ever been short, and neither is your father if I recall correctly."

"No, he isn't." The formalities were protecting her as well, Theodore guessed. Then a memory hit him.

_You look like your mother. _

_And like Mo-_

Monique_ Jugson, not Mortimer. I look like _her. _But why didn't they tell me that?_

"I don't suppose..." He gathered a breath. "Why have we never met? I don't have much family as it is - I thought I didn't have any, now -" he took an iron grip on the impulse to talk. "I would like to know."

Monique O'Neill nodded, sharp blue eyes examining him. "Well then, why don't we step into the kitchen for a cup of tea, and we can have a nice long chat about family."

Theo wondered how many cups of tea he was going to be offered in the next week.

"That would be lovely, Mrs. O'Neill."

His aunt chuckled. "None of that; Aunt Monique will do nicely, or just Monique if you're up to it. My husband's an only child, so I've never got used to nieces or nephews."

"Uh...sure, Aunt Monique." First name terms with an adult he'd met five minutes ago was just a little beyond Theo's grasp.

* * *

"Sugar?"

"Yes, please." Theo accepted the brightly-coloured mug his aunt wafted over to him. The kitchen was unlike the low-beamed stone-floored one of his childhood; it was sunny and wooden-floored, with a row of carved cats along the windowsill. Monique O'Neill seated herself at the table across from Theo.

"So, where do we begin? I suppose with your mother and me."

" You're her older sister? Younger sister?" Theo asked, taking a sip of tea.

His aunt leant her elbows on the table. "Younger. That's where it all began, really. Our family were a lot like yours - old, pureblood, arrogant, feeling their control of the wizarding world slipping away. Addie and I were the last generation of Jugsons - well, there's our Uncle Mortimer, but he's off being a Death Eater. I was the rebel of the family, in a way. I went off and married a halfblood - and one with a Muggle parent, at that." Theo's eyebrows shot up. No wonder he'd never heard about this!

Monique's lips twisted at his expression. "Yes, well, you probably can guess what reaction that got. I was only two years out of Hogwarts, and there I was eloping. Addie - Adrienne - was always better than I was, but after that she had to be perfect. I think that was hard for her."

" So my mum - she married dad when she left school because it was a proper marriage?"

"Merlin, no." Monique shook her head. "Addie went and got a job editing books for a big publishing firm. Quite the intellectual, your mum was. She was the Ravenclaw; I was the hardworking Hufflepuff. I could never quite match up, and we all knew that. Maybe that was partly why I rebelled. I was sick of being the youngest and not quite as pretty or smart or good as Addie."

"You were in Hufflepuff?" Theo exclaimed.

"We can't all be in Slytherin. At least, I assume you are."

"Yes, but - that is - my girlfriend - um. She's in Hufflepuff." Theo snapped his mouth shut, feeling a blush rising. He was almost as bad as Terry, today!

"Nice to see some inter-House co-operation," said his aunt wickedly. "I married a fellow Hufflepuff, myself. Callum O'Neill. You'll meet him when he gets home from work. Anyway, Addie disappointed my parents a bit by not getting married, but at least she wasn't openly disgracing the family - she did well in her job, got promoted quite a lot - so they were happy with her. She even visited me, sometimes." Monique looked wistful. "Then when she was thirty she met your dad. He was twenty years older than her, but it didn't stop them. Our parents weren't happy. He was perfect in every other way, of course, but they told her she'd never be happy with someone that much older."

"Was she happy?" Theo asked softly.

"She was. Oh, but she was. The family gave in, in the end. It was a good match, after all. And then she died and left Eric to bring you up alone."

"But if my mum still talked to you, why didn't my dad ever tell me about you?"

"The times." Monique shrugged. "It was just after You-Know-Who's downfall when Addie died. Your father lost his war and his wife within a year of each other. He wasn't going to call a blood traitor family. Addie counted blood pride for a lot, but not enough to stop speaking to her sister. Your father - well, you know what he is or you'd not be sitting here. I doubt he even knew Addie was still talking to me. In fact, I don't think he did."

Theo looked down at the table for a second, wearily wishing for the thousandth time that his father wasn't so...what he was. "Did your parents still speak to you?"

"Barely. They're dead now, anyway." Monique took a sip of tea. "Addie always felt guilty about being the good girl of the family, so she tried to make it up to me by not cutting me off. You have to remember I married Callum three years before anyone had even heard of You-Know-Who. Things were...different then between purebloods and everyone else."

"How could they be?" Theo tried to imagine a world where purebloods...where some purebloods _didn't_ despise anyone with Muggle blood. Where Muggles and Muggle-borns were accepted.

He came up very short against a storm of memories and the very reality of why he was sitting here.

"For your generation, maybe you can't see that. If that's true, we're never going to get out of this war even if the Death Eaters lose."

"But that's just the way things _are_. I mean, I used to think like some of the Death Eaters - that is - I was wrong, well, mostly wrong, but - people always want to think they're better. Family is the easiest excuse."

"Ah, but when I was growing up, no-one _said_ it. My parents despised Muggle-borns as much as the next good pureblood, but it wasn't the done thing to mention it. You didn't talk to them, or socialise with them, and for Merlin's sake you didn't marry them, but you tolerated them. Things were getting better, too. The old families have been dying out for centuries - well, so everyone says - so we were getting to the point where everyone had a bit of Muggle blood. It was looking up when I married my husband. I suppose that's why I dared."

"So what happened then?"

"He Who Must Not Be Named happened." His aunt sighed. "It was like...he was saying and doing what all the old families were thinking. Suddenly there was a way out; it was all right to say in public - to act in public - on feelings people had been forced to keep private. That's why there was so much violence, I suppose. All those repressed feelings of misuse coming to the surface. It was the last chance for the purebloods to regain their dominance, and they knew it."

"You mean people like my father just walked out and started..." Theo couldn't even find words for it.

"No, no." Monique shook her head. "Some of the Death Eaters were just thugs and murderers, or insane. Some were after the power. Some were young and acting on everything they'd been taught but not allowed to say. And some - like your dad - found a leader to give them their old world back. I met your father a few times. He believes, I think. He really believes Muggles threaten everything we stand for. That's the most frightening thing. I remember talking to Addie - your mother - just before she died." She bowed her head. "Addie truly, honestly believed her husband had done the right thing for _your_ future, Theodore. They thought it would be better for you."

"I know - I know they did." Theo forced the words out. "I know. That - don't you find it frightening that people believe things that can drive them to murder and never stop to ask why? I mean - I did. I wondered. I did a very good job of sticking my head in the sand, up until I was fifteen, but I did think. I know lots of Death Eaters, and the scary thing about them is that they aren't stupid...well, most of them...or ignorant. They're intelligent, articulate, clever people who believe heart and soul that they're _right_."

Monique chuckled, but there was an edge to it. "That always is the frightening thing - for me. Callum was always more worried about the fact they existed, but a lot of Death Eaters were people I knew and grew up with. And I suppose the next lot of them will be people you go to school with. Not easy."

Theo swallowed. "I'm not all that keen on sharing a dormitory with four people who probably have orders to kill me."

"Oh, they can't do anything while you're at school," his aunt assured him. "My Liam was in Slytherin just after the war, and half his class were still smarting from their families turning up on the wrong side, but he was fine."

He shook his head. "Mrs. O- Aunt Monique, I'm not worried about petulant children. I'm worried about Death Eaters. _I_ was supposed to be a Death Eater, and I'd be willing to be bet they are by now. Maybe they won't risk trying anything at school - but I'm not looking forward to spending every minute of every day watching out for them. I don't know how I'm going to sleep."

"Cautiously," his aunt rejoined. "At least you'll be safe in this house."

"I know." He looked down at the table. "The thing is - I was safe where I was, too. Right up until last night. I was welcome, and I threw that back in their faces. It wasn't very polite."

"Very polite." He looked up to see Monique gazing at "You are like Addie."

"She was polite?"

"Depending on who you were, yes. I was more thinking of the tendency to worry about the strangest things."

"Worrying about offending your family isn't strange!"

"Under the circumstances..." his aunt pointed out. "It would be very easy for you not to bother."

Theo drained the last of his tea, remembering Anne's admonition not to blame his father, because it wasn't fair. "It would be easy. So I have to try and - not. I mean, okay, my family probably think I'm a horrible traitor, but it doesn't mean they didn't - didn't love me. Don't, even."

"Very like Addie. Tell me something, Theodore. When did you decide to run away?"

"It's Theo, actually," Theo told her on impulse. Everyone in his - well, Monique O'Neill was blood kin, but everyone in the family he'd grown up with called him Theodore. Now was as good a time as any to make a break. "About - about a year ago, come to think of it."

Monique raised an eyebrow. "A year. I was wondering. You do seem like you'd had a lot of time to work yourself up to this."

"I wasn't planning, well, this, I just - I wasn't going to leave. I thought..." Theo stared at the fluttering curtains for a moment. "I thought, or I did two years ago, that I could not be a Death Eater and still get along with my family. Then I made friends with Anne - my -that is - anyway, she's Muggle-born, and things sort of...I realised, one day, that I couldn't stay forever, because somehow it had become expected that I'd be a Death Eater. I kept quiet so I wouldn't upset my family, and then all of a sudden -"

"- it was too late, and there was no way you could ever explain to them. So it was set your mind on going, or change your mind, and the second is near impossible."

Theo looked back at Monique. "Yes. Yes, I - is that what happened to you?"

"Pretty much. I was going out with Callum, and I kept meaning to explain it to my parents - and then I decided they'd never accept it, so I might as well marry him and work it out later. I was so sure that a grandchild or two would bring them around. Then came the first war, and...You-Know-Who's responsible for a lot of tragedies, but not all of them involved murder. I always thought watching families fragment was the worst."

"Yes," Theo agreed quietly. "Sometimes it is."

_Because you don't have to die to be dead to your family. _

There was a moment of silence, before Monique looked at the clock. "Goodness, I'd better start getting dinner on. You probably want to go and unpack, or something."

"Is there anything I could do to help?" Theo offered, out of sheer reflex. Karena Amberley had never expected him to, but the point was that you _offered_.

To his surprise, Monique O'Neill took him up on it. "Do you think you could manage peeling potatoes?"

"Well - I'll try. But, er, you'll have to show me how."

"It's _really_ easy," Monique assured him.

It took about ten minutes and a nasty cut on his thumb, but Theo felt quite proud of himself for mastering a piece of Muggle technology. Even if it was a potato-peeler. Monique, in response to casual query, was quite happy to tell him all about her family as she prepared dinner. Theo listened carefully, a skill developed over six years of sharing a dorm with Draco Malfoy. If he had been given the unexpected gift of relatives who would still talk to him, he wasn't going to waste it.

Apparently, Monique herself was a clerk at a small law firm Theo had never heard of (not that he knew many law firms), Diggle and Fawcett. She skimmed around names and details, but Theo received the strong impression that someone else in the firm was a member of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, which was how she had been informed of his situation. Her husband, Callum O'Neill, worked as an announcer ("for lots of different things, he just fills in where they need him") on the WWN. The name did ring a bell somewhere in Theo's mind - he'd _heard_ it, but couldn't quite place it. He said as much. Monique laughed, and told him that one of the things Callum filled in for was reading the hourly news. Theo knew he'd heard that often enough.

Monique's eldest daughter, Jan, ("Janet really, but none of us call her that") was currently at home raising her two toddlers, Evan and Leonora. According to Monique, she'd been working in a restaurant along Diagon Alley, but had decided to give it over until her children were older. "Makes perfect sense. I went back to work once Cat started Hogwarts - after all, we're not like Muggle women. If they waited for their children to grow up, they'd barely have time to work at all. We've got plenty of time."

Cat was her youngest child, Catriona, "seven years older than you, so you just missed out on being at school together. She was in Slytherin, as well - Jan was the only one of mine who wasn't. Bit of a shock for Callum and me." The middle child, Liam, was an Auror, "which is worrying, with the world as it is now - but it's what he wanted." Monique spoke of her children as if they were still young, but Theo worked out mentally that Catriona was twenty-four, and the oldest, Janet, close to thirty. It threw into stark relief just how old his father was, compared to his peers' parents. Old enough to be his grandfather, not just his father. It had never bothered Theo, but now it was one more thing he'd never thought about or spoken of.

* * *

Callum O'Neill arrived home just before dinner was ready. Theo's very real uncertainty as to how he would take Theo's sudden appearance faded away as they ate. Callum was a quick-tongued, good-humoured man, although his easy assumption of familiarity could take getting used to. He listened curiously to Theo's brief explanation of why he was there. Monique was his mother's sister, but he wasn't sure he wanted to go over it too much to a relative by marriage. Callum just nodded, though, and quickly turned the conversation to other things - Quidditch, how frightening NEWTs were, the few times he'd seen Theo as an infant. Not the war, anything but the war, although that was an almost impossible task. Theo found himself talking more than he normally did. Perhaps it was just the sheer relief of not lying, of not having to keep up a watchful pretence every second of the day. Perhaps it was Callum's skill with words - Theo could now recall hearing him do morning interviews on the WWN (mostly politics, so Theo had never listened hard until this summer). He was certainly good at getting people to talk, and Theo could recognise that even as it worked on him.

"I don't suppose you're much for music?" Callum asked at one point. "I remember hearing your mother was."

"The harp, wasn't it?" Theo said. "I think we still have - I saw it, once or twice, up in the attic."

"Oh, yes, Addie and her harp." Monique smiled. "I teased her something dreadful about that - it was so easy to. She was always threatening to get you started on it as well, when you were old enough."

"I play the piano," Theo informed them. "It's not...I know Dad wanted me to start playing something, because of Mum, but I think the harp would have been a bit close to home. And - well, really, the harp?"

Monique shook her head. "That was all Addie's idea. She was set on it from when she was about eight. My mother decided it was time for her to learn an instrument, and Addie declared right then and there that it was going to be the harp. She got away with it, too."

"What about you?" Theo asked politely.

Callum laughed out loud. "Monique and music? I don't think so."

"He's right, I'm practically tone deaf. Callum's the only one with any musical talent in this household."

"Really?"

"Which means, in context, that I made some attempt at the violin when I was quite young, but then I went to Hogwarts."

"There's plenty of places to practice there," Theo objected.

"There are? I never found them, and I couldn't be bothered. There was more than enough trouble to get in to as it was."

"I always found the practice rooms an excellent way of avoiding trouble, myself," Theo said. "There's been more than enough of it going around these last couple of years."

"I wish some of _my_ children had taken that approach to things," Monique commented dryly. "They spent far too much time taking after Callum here."

"I think that's because their trouble was the kind you get into, and Theodore's is the kind that happens to you," her husband reminded her.

Theo tried to imagine a Hogwarts where trouble did not involve the possibility of an early death. Maybe in his first year. It seemed a very long time ago.

"What kind of trouble did you get into, if you don't mind me asking?"

Monique sighed. "Don't get him started, please."

"Well..." Callum said, eyes twinkling, and launched into a complicated tale about spying on the Ravenclaw Quidditch tryouts. It was far removed from the ugly tension of the Quidditch games Theo had seen at Hogwarts, and he listened wistfully to the story of a more peaceful time.

It wasn't until he was climbing into bed in the room with the faded Quidditch posters that night that he realised it was hours past the time when he had been supposed to...to swear his oaths.

_It's been a very long day, hasn't it? This time last night I was - I was talking to Dad..._

_No point thinking about that. No going back now. _

_No going back. _

Theo turned the damp pillow over before he went to sleep.


	5. Cadenza

**Chapter Five: Cadenza  
  
**

Running away from home, long-lost relatives and death threats aside, Theo came to the conclusion on Thursday night that he didn't really have any excuses for not finishing off his homework. He'd got most of it done, as an excuse to tell his cousins to go away, but the long Transfiguration essay remained. So on Friday morning he spread his notes out on the kitchen table and got down to work. Callum was on the early morning shift at the WWN, or so Monique had told him before she left for work; he was supposed to be back in the early afternoon. She had also said something about Jan popping in for her keys, whatever that meant. Theo toyed with the idea of turning on the wireless to see if he heard Callum on anything, but decided it wasn't worth the effort of getting up. The kitchen table wasn't very big - some pieces of parchment were perilously close to the edge - but Theo liked it better in the kitchen. It caught the morning sun. Perhaps, too, it was because he'd spent half his childhood building forts under the massive old wooden table that graced the kitchen at home.  
He had managed to write a whole two paragraphs when he heard the sound of the back door , over to his right, opening.

_IT ISN"T LOCKED? _

Theo was snatching for his wand as the door pushed open, ready to run. He was half-way out of his seat when a toddler in Muggle clothing tottered around the half-open door. She - he - it - Theo wasn't sure - stopped, grabbing the door, when it saw Theo.

"Mummy, 's a person in the kitchen!" it announced loudly.

"Don't be silly, Lee, Grandma and Granddad aren't - what the hell are you doing here?"

The speaker had pushed the door fully open. Theo registered a young witch with light brown hair hanging in a plait over one shoulder and Callum O'Neill's sharp grey eyes. She had keys in one hand and a green-coloured stain on the shoulder of her everyday dark blue robes. Theo couldn't imagine anything further from a Death Eater. He sat down with an audible thump.

"AhÉmy Transfiguration summer assignment," he said, trying to work out what was going on. He'd had quite enough of strange women, and this was the last straw.

"I can see that," the witch replied sharply, "but why are you doing it in my parents' kitchen?"

Theo pulled out the list of relatives recited to him last night from under the esoteric Transfiguration facts cluttering his brain. "I don't suppose you'd be Janet - Janet Hayle, by any chance?"

"And what's that got to do with the price of fish?"

Lee - Leonora, Janet's two-year-old, Theo seemed to remember - was toddling with what seemed to be great effort towards him. He regarded her uncertainly.

Leonora clung to the table leg beside him, nearly knocking herself to the ground.

"Person in the kitchen!" she announced proudly.

"Yes, darling, I can see that, but he hasn't told us who he is." Janet Hayle's tone was soothing, but her eyes were sharp.

Theo, belatedly, rose from his seat. "You're probably not going to believe this, but actually I'm your cousin Theodore. I believe we met when I was eighteen months old, but I'm afraid I don't remember it."

Janet's jaw dropped. "_Theodore_?" She looked him up and down. "Hmph. Last time I saw you, you weren't much taller than Lee here. What happened?"

"Adolescence?" Theo suggested. He couldn't remember being _that_ short. "Height does seem to run in the family."

"For everyone except me, " his cousin agreed ruefully. She wasn't particularly tall, Theo noted. Her eyes narrowed again. "You still haven't said why you're here. The last thing I'd heard, we weren't ever going to see you again because your fatherÉdidn't hold with our sort. That was just after Aunt Addie died, and I was thirteen then. Why are you here now?"

Theo suddenly realised how absurdly trivial the explanation was.

"It's rather a long story, but the short version is that I ran away from home."

"Why?"

Theo hesitated, then shrugged. "I like my beauty sleep, and Death Eaters always seem to be

working nights."

"I see." Janet folded her arms and regarded him critically. Leonora, unnoticed, was heading determinedly past Theo for parts unknown. He contemplated trying to stop her, but decided against it. "Pressure to follow in your father's footsteps, that sort of thing?"

"That sort of thing." It was easier to just agree.

"Mum offered to help look after you when Aunt Addie died, you know, but your father wouldn't have any of it," his cousin said suddenly. "I was disappointed. You _were_ cute when you were a baby. Well, except for the time you threw up on me."

Theo had no idea what you said to that. "Oh. Did I?"

"Oh yes." Janet grinned wickedly. "It was the only forewarning I got about children before I had my own, so I remembered."

"Yes, you've got some-" Theo snapped his mouth shut. Perhaps mentioning the spinach was not entirely diplomatic.

Janet sighed. "Let me guess. Spinach somewhere on my robes?"

"Uh, yes. On your right shoulder." He heard a giggle behind him, and turned to see Leonora standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Mummy! Door!"

Janet _tsked_ in exasperation. "Lee, love, come back here!"

Leonora pouted. It put Theo unfairly in mind of Terry. "Wanna stay!"

"Yes, dear, I know, but we're just going to pick up the keys and go. We're not staying today."

Theo dragged another memory out. "I think your mother mentioned it was on the windowsill." He did recall Monique O'Neill saying something about keys.

Janet blissfully ignored Leonora's darkening face and walk over to scan the kitchen windowsill. A breeze was billowing the curtains through the half-open window and she had to push it aside.

"Aha, there we go!" She picked up a bunch of keys which were in danger of falling out the window.

"Mummy, wanna stay!" Leonora wailed.

Janet bustled over to pick up the now red-faced toddler. "Come on, we're going now. We can't leave your brother in the car for too long, he'll probably pick the lock." She nodded at Theo. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got to run." Leonora was stiff and unhelpful in her arms. "Hogwarts doesn't start for another week or so, does it? I might pop in during the weekend."

"Ah - right. Okay," Theo said.

"You must catch up with Liam and Cat while you're staying with Mum and Dad," she chattered on. "They'd love to see you again. Tell Mum I picked my keys up, will you? I left them the day before yesterday. Never have children, it ruins your memory."

"Certainly."

She smiled. "Wonderful. 'Bye!" Lugging a still grumpy Leonora out the door, she shut it behind her. Theo heard the lock click.

He sat - or rather collapsed - back down into his chair. _More_ relatives. More relatives who knew far more about him than he did about them. Liam and Cat - that had to be Liam and Catriona O'Neill, Monique and Callum's two other children. Hadn't Monique mentioned something about Liam being an Auror?

Theo looked at his Transfiguration work, got up and shut the window, sat down again, got up to fetch his pen-knife, sat down again, got up to make a cup of tea, and decided while the kettle was boiling that maybe his mind wasn't on the job. Accordingly, he pulled out some spare parchment and began a letter to Anne. That might be calming.

_Dear Anne,  
A lot has happened since I saw you - I've been bombarded with relatives. Two days ago I thought I had no family who would speak to me. Now I've got an aunt, an uncle, three cousins, a cousin-by-marriage, and two cousins once removed. It's startling to say the least.  
I just met...._

* * *

Anne's reply arrived that Sunday evening, borne by an overly affectionate Gwaihir. The speckled owl flapped in the kitchen window and tried to land on Theo's shoulder.

"Arrgh!" Theo jumped. "Stupid bird, not on me! Ouch!"

Gwaihir had pecked his ear. Theo _thought_ it was meant by way of greeting, but he wasn't sure. Callum, who was doing something with rice, laughed.

"Doesn't like you very much, does he?"

"He does normally - for Merlin's sake, get off - no, the windowsill, you silly thing - hold still -"

Theo put down the potato-peeler he was holding and reached for the letter on the owl's leg. He recognised Anne's handwriting; what surprised him was the other letter Spellotaped to the first, addressed in Terry's spiky script.

"There we go. No. The meat's for the curry, not for you. Go and find Bronwyn, she might be happy to see you."

Gwaihir hooted at him cheerfully, then flapped off into the house. Theo examined the letters for a second, then laid them on the sill. He could read when he was done.

"Is that from the friend you stopped over with?" his uncle inquired, Summoning the butter over to himself .

"Yes," Theo said absently, picking up the peeler again. He enjoyed helping in the kitchen. He could see that it would seem very tedious if you'd done it day in and out all your life, but for the moment it was a novelty.

"Very persistent owl she's got," Callum said, putting the saucepan on the stove.

"Gwaihir? Yes. I think her family treat it too much like a pet, and now it keeps trying to perch on everyone."

"_Gwaihir?"_ exclaimed his uncle. "You're not serious!"

"It's from a Muggle book or something isn't it?" Theo said, picking up the last carrot.

His uncle was laughing helplessly. "Oh, that's classic. You should know where it's from. Didn't I see you reading _Lord of the Rings _yesterday?"

"Is _that_ where it's from? Anne never told me. She just said the name was from a book, she was only eleven when she chose it, and I wasn't allowed to ask."

"It gets worse," his uncle said cheerfully, starting to chop up some cabbage. "Back in the sixties and seventies lots of Muggles named their children after characters from the book. One of my cousins on my mum's side is called Galadriel. Luckily her parents moved off that before they had more children."

"That's a truly horrible thing to do to a child," Theo agreed.

"She's reconciled to it now, she just calls herself Gail. Mind you, people do equally nasty things in the name of family tradition."

"Don't I know it," muttered Theo, beheading a carrot more savagely than necessary.

"Oh, yes, you didn't escape, did you?"

"You know what my middle name is?" Theo asked in the tone of someone pleading to be told it isn't true.

His uncle nodded, a broad grin on his face. "It could have been worse."

"Worse than Valdemar?" Theo made a face. He didn't even like saying it. Stupid family traditions about stupid Norse relatives. Stupid, antiquated, _ridiculous_ family traditions. Whoever had come up with that one should have been hexed.

"I'm sure there's something. Although I remember seeing you for the first time - you weren't a very big baby - and thinking that you had a lot of long names for such a small child."

Theo picked up the last carrot. "I wouldn't have thought my mother would haveÉwellÉAunt Monique said she thought my father was right." That wasn't what he wanted to say, at all, but the right words were difficult to find.

"I only saw you once or twice. It was Monique your mother kept in touch with, not me." Theo looked up to see his uncle scraping the cabbage into the pot with the rest of the curry. "You're right, she didn't like me much at all. I was honestly surprised she turned up to the wedding. That was well before she met your father, though. Pass the carrots?"

Theo handed the chopping board over, thinking carefully. "ButÉshe could make herself believe it was all right to keep seeing Aunt Monique and her children, because it was her sister. And even if your kids _did_ have a Muggle grandparent, they were her nieces and nephew, so she could pretend it wasn't the same. Of course they weren't the people the Dark Lord had declared war on. They were family. It was _different_. But you weren't blood family, so you were just some - some halfblood."

Callum raised an eyebrow. "You pinned that down well for someone who barely met Adrienne."

"IÉI've done that myself," Theo admitted reluctantly.

"Done what?"

"Pretended. If you just tell yourself that the person - that they're an exception, it's different, you can almost forget what's really going on."

"Doublethink," his uncle said mysteriously.

"Huh?"

"Never mind." Callum shook his head, putting the lid on the curry. "I always did wonder what your mother would have done if someone made her face up to reality."

"I'm sure she understood what was going on perfectly well," Theo defended. "No one's ever said she was stupid!"

"So you'd rather that your mum knew what your dad did and believed it, or that she made herself forget?"

"She's dead," said Theo, almost throwing the knife into the sink. "She's dead and I don't know. Everyone else in my family knows what they're doing so why bother thinking she might have understood?" He snatched Anne's letter off the windowsill. "Do you need any more help?"

"No, we're all done. Thanks."

"It was nothing," Theo said savagely, stalking out of kitchen.

"It'll be ready in about twenty minutes!" Callum called after him.

Theo ignored him as he headed for his room. Callum sounded...sympathetic. And sympathy wasn't what Theo wanted at all. Callum and Monique were trying to be family and they weren't. Just because they'd known him as a toddler, what did that mean? Just because they'd known his mother didn't mean they knew him. So they should damn well stop pretending to.

He caught the door to his room just before it slammed.

* * *

After Theo's whirlwind visit, Anne suddenly found life at home very dull. It wasn't that anything had actually changed. But the Muggle world seemed faded, now, plodding along in the same mundane way it always had. The papers talked about distant battles, as they always did, and meaningless politics. Eddie mooched around the house, went into town with his friends, watched TV. Her parents worked. Terry was three places at once, packing a summer's worth of visits and telephone calls into the last week of the holidays. Nicola picked out tunes on the piano and tried to persuade her older siblings to play with her. It was normal, the quintessence of normal, andÉit wasn't her world anymore.

Her world was racked by war and uncertainty, but every day the prospect of returning to Hogwarts and magic grew more and more appealing. In her memory, Hogwarts seemed more vivid, more colourful, more lively, than home had ever been. It was just that nobody at home - with the exception of Terry - understood things. They could tease her about Theo or ask, haltingly, "what's going on", but the magic was beyond them. Between Eddie's resentment, Nicola's hopes, her mother's quiet worry, her father's confusion, Anne felt lost.

_Only a week_, she told herself desperately. _One more week and I'm back. _

* * *

Anne was practising netball in the back garden - in a rather desultory fashion, it had to be said - when Eddie found her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, leaning against the side of the house.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Anne replied, taking careful aim. The ball bounced of the edge of the hoop. "Damn!"

Eddie caught the ball easily and tossed it back to her. "I haven't seen you out here for ages."

"Don't be silly," Anne objected, potting the next one neatly, "I'm sure I was out hereÉwellÉlast summer, at least." She moved forward to retrieve the ball.

"Last summer!" Eddie laughed. "See? You're never at home to do anything like you used to. Have you even noticed that Mum pulled out the rose bush, or Nic's growing radishes in the corner over there?"

"Of course I have! Nic showed me when I got back from Hogwarts."

"Anne" Eddie sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I dunno. It used to be you and me all the time, and then you went away to Hogwarts, and now - it's always you and Terry. Or you're up in your room, writing to your friends or something. You're just not _around_ anymore, even when you're at home."

Anne folded her arms around the ball. "WellÉneither are you. You've been off at your friends' places half these holidays, or on the phone, or in town. We're getting older, that's all."

"I'm getting older. _You're_ getting different."

"That's what happens, I suppose." When had Eddie got this old? The last time Anne had looked, he'd been ten. Twelve, at most. "It's not on purpose."

"It's not on purpose, butÉyou're turning into one of them."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Eddie shrugged. "A wizard. Yeah, I know, you think I'm just angry about not being one, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong. Even your friends think we're weird, orÉnot as good as you are. Your boyfriend does."

"You can't say things like that about Theo. You don't even know-"

"Yeah, I can. I know, I heard you and Mum talking about his family and all that, and I'm sure he's way nicer than they are or whatever, but that doesn't make him perfect. I mean, he can't be all that bad if Terry likes him, 'cause she'd pick up if he was nasty, but I don't have to like him because you do."

"I'm not asking you to like him, Eddie, I'm asking you to not make generalisations about things you don't understand."

"You don't _want_ me to understand. It's easier to say that I'm the one with the problem, isn't it? Face it, Anne. You're different, too. I mean, of course you will be, because you spend most of your time with people like you. It's not bad, just - stop pretending nothing's changed."

"Lots of things haven't," Anne said quietly. "Lots of things _won't_."

_Is that a fact or a promise? _

"Like what?"

She tossed the netball up in the air and caught it again. "Like...you can't stop me shooting goals, even if you try."

Eddie straightened up to his full height. When had he got that tall? "Oh yeah?"

Anne shot before he had a chance to move, and by supreme luck got it in. She caught the ball on the rebound. "Yup."

Grinning, Eddie moved in front of the hoop. "Try _that_ one again."

Anne laughed, and circled closer.

_Maybe I'm right, after all. _

* * *

She met her mother in the kitchen when she went in to scrounge for lunch.

"Oh, hi, Mum. I forgot the library closes early on Mondays."

"You didn't forget, it changed. It used to be Wednesdays." Her mother was filling the electric jug.

"Cup of tea?"

"No thanks." Anne opened the fridge. Cheese, celery, left over curryÉhmm. Curry. She went to fetch a plate. "When did that change?"

Her mother frowned. "Hmm. I'm not sure if I remember. About last October?"

Anne blinked. "That'sÉthat's quite a long time ago."

Mary Fairleigh shrugged. "Well, with you at school nine months out of twelve, you do miss a few things around here."

"I wish I didn't," Anne said, scooping curry on to the plate. "I've only just realised how much I am missing out on."

"You're not missing out on anything," her mother said firmly. "You're exactly where you should be. You've got a talent the rest of us don't, and it's worth having."

"Lots of people don't think I am," Anne commented quietly, opening the microwave.

"Your brother -"

"I wasn't talking about Eddie." She closed the door, and punched in fifty seconds. "I was talking about the Death Eaters."

"Ah." Her mother paused, holding a tea bag over her mug. "From everything I've heard, they're not worth listening to."

"No. No, they're not." Anne leaned back against the bench. "Do you miss the Martins, Mum? I just remembered - if it was any normal summer, Hector would be over here playing with Nic, or Terry would be visiting Elise. I might be babysitting the pair of them and Andy tonight. It's been a year."

"It has, too." The jug was boiling, but her mother ignored it, folding her arms against herself. "Yes, I miss them. They were friends, and they helped us understand your world. I wonder how Andy's doing?"

"She'll be three now, won't she?" Anne said. "Talking a lot more, I suppose. Learning her alphabet. Do you think she'd remember us?"

"Probably not," her mother told her honestly. "Perhaps you could send her a letter - well, for her aunt and uncle to read to her, anyway."

"Perhaps I will. Or Nic could." The microwave beeped, and Anne reached across to open it. "What have I missed out on this year, Mum? All the things I don't know because I was away and I didn't ask. Tell me."

"I can't think of anything that we wouldn't have written to you about, to tell the truth."

"I suppose not." Anne stared down at the plate she was holding. "Things seem very quiet, that's all."

"Do they? I think it's been quite a busy year, myself. It sounded fairly quiet at your school, though."

" Busy here, and busy for - busy at Hogwarts are different things. Have I even told you about the DA?"

"About the what?" asked her mother, looking blank. "Evidently not."

Anne pulled open the cutlery drawer. "I will, then."

* * *

Going up to her room after lunch to play her flute - she had slipped a bit - Anne heard the unmistakable sound of Nicola on the piano emanating from the living room. She went in there, instead.

"Are you playing the piano, Nic?"

"I'm playing _Star Wars_," Nic told her proudly. Her face fell. "I can't remember all of it. Do you know it, Anne?"

"I'll see what I can do. Hop off the stool for a minute?"

Nic obliged, and Anne flipped it open to get at the music stored in there. She was sure she'd seen"Here we go." It was a copy of the _Star Wars_ theme tune, something she'd played on the flute a long time ago, and relegated to the piano stool long since.

"I can't read that!" Nic objected.

"I'll show you how to play it," Anne promised, slipping the sheet onto the music rack. "Move over."

"'Kay." Nic wriggled to the edge of the piano stool. "How do you read music, Anne?"

Anne smiled. "The same way you read a book, except it's a different alphabet."

"Oh." Nic frowned. "It takes ages to learn to read. Is there a faster way?"

"Good things take time, Nic. Here, watch my fingers."

Anne played the so-familiar tune once, slowly, and then a little faster. "Do you think you can repeat that?"

Nicola put her hands carefully on the keys. "Maybe." She stumbled a few times, but got through the entire tune.

"You're so lucky, Nic, you know that?" Anne said.

"Why am I lucky? You're lucky. You're magic."

"You heard that and played it. D'you know how long it takes me to memorise things? I have to _work_ at music. You can just do it."

"But it's not hard," Nic protested. "Can't you hear it?"

"Not like you can." Anne looked at the sheet music. How old had she been when she got it? Eight? Nine? "When are you going to start proper lessons?"

"Dad said I can when school starts again." Nic wound her fingers in her ponytail. "That's soon, isn't it? You're going away again."

"Don't sound so sad. It's not for - well, I'll be back at Christmas."

"It's not really long anymore, but it was. Maybe your friend Theo can visit again in the holidays, and he can show me some tunes he knows."

"Maybe he can." Anne wished she could have back Nicola's uninterrupted vision of the future.

"Do you remember Hector and Elise, Nic?"

"Sort of." Nic peered at the keys. "They died ages ago, didn't they? I miss Hector. He was fun to play with."

"Yeah. Yeah, you played a lot with Hector."

_People die, wars are fought, Dark Lords rise and fall, and life goes on for kids like Nicola because it always has, so it always will. _

_I hope it does. _

* * *

Her father came up to her room while she was playing the flute to call her down for dinner.

"Anne! Dinner's on the table."

Anne broke off, secretly pleased to have an excuse to stop midway through her scales. "Okay, I'll be down in a minute."

Her father leant against the door frame as she started to put her music away. "How's your day been, love?"

"Pretty normal. Anything interesting happen at work?"

Jonathan Fairleigh laughed. "Nothing interesting happens to accountants, I thought you knew that."

"Nothing interesting happens to Hufflepuffs, either." Anne sighed. "Or at least, it didn't use to."

"Missing school, are you?"

Anne bit her lip, jiggling the top part of her flute. It had been getting stuck a lot, lately. "A little bit, yes."

"I suppose you would be." Her father shook his head. His brown hair was definitely thinner than it had been - had she noticed that the last time she was home? "You're growing up so fast. Magic, boys"

"One swallow does not a summer make, Dad." Anne snapped the flute case shut. "Anyway, Theo's not a - I mean, he's not just 'a boy', he - oh, never mind."

"Such a shame I didn't get to meet him."

"Come off it, Dad. There's no way you could play the scary father."

"For my precious eldest daughter?"

Anne swatted him as they walked down the stairs. "Believe me, you wouldn't scare Theo. You're a Muggle. I mean - that is - he knows much scarier people than you."

She glanced guiltily at her father, but he only smiled. "In my experience, any father is frightening to a teenage boy, no matter how mild-mannered they really are."

Anne felt a flash of irritation at the joke. Surely Dad understood? "Well, yes, but you'd only _seem_ like you were going to mercilessly torture him. Theo knows plenty of people who actually will, if they get the chance."

Her father chuckled. "Don't be so sure."

Anne halted outside the kitchen door. "Dad? That wasn't a joke."

His face grew shadowed. "I know, love. But sometimes you have to make these things into jokes, if you want to deal with them."

"Oh." Anne swallowed. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Dealing with it."

"Ah." He pushed open the door. "It's the least we can do."

* * *

"Anne?" came a voice from her doorway. She looked up from the essay on her desk. The last one of these holidays, fortunately, but she didn't know what she'd do for the next week. Wait.

"Come in, Terry," she told her sister. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing really." Terry entered, shutting the door behind her. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"What about?"

She seated herself on Anne's bed. "I dunno really. You seem kind of sad today."

"I suppose so," Anne agreed, replacing her quill in the inkpot.

"Why?"

Anne pulled her chair around, and looked at Terry for a moment. She was bouncing on the bed, unable to keep still. No wonder Theo got so annoyed with her. Terry, full of life and enthusiasmÉand magic

_That doesn't matter! My family are all my family, it doesn't matter if they're Muggles Ð _

_But it does, doesn't it? It does. _

"I realised something today," Anne said finally. The sun had set, and the sky outside was fading gently into night. The evening star was visible on the western horizon. Mars would be visible, later, the herald of war. Gabby had told them that once after a Divination class with Firenze.

"You're in love with Theo?" giggled Terry.

"Get out of here!" Anne said, ignoring the immediate answer, which was _Yes, maybe, sort of._

"Nothing like that."

"What, then?"

"I realised" It sounded silly, said aloud, but who could she say it to if not Terry? "I realised I'm a witch."

Terry eyed her quizzically. "Well, duh, you go to Hogwarts."

"No, I mean" Anne gestured in frustration and nearly knocked over the inkpot. "I mean, I'm not a Muggle. I don't belong here."

"'Course we don't. We're witches. We're part of the magic world. This is just our home."

"No, Terry, it's like I thought - I thought I could be normal, _we_ could be normal, and things would just stay the way they always have. But I can't, and they're not, and I don't want them to change, and it's going to happen anyway."

"Isn't that what happens when you grow up? At least it's not like you're Theo and you have to run away from home. That'd be awful. Imagine going away from home."

"Yes, but - oh, never mind." Anne got up and sat down next to Terry on the bed, putting an arm around her. "You're a wonderful person to have around, you know that, Terry?"

Terry obligingly hugged her. "Only when you and Theo don't want to be by yourselves."

Anne punched her sister lightly in the arm. "That's different."

"Yeah, I know it is."

_I'm growing away, but Terry's growing with me. And everyone elseÉwell, they're trying to be there for us to come back to. Even Eddie. _

_There are worse fates. _


	6. Dolce

****

A/N: Sorry this is a bit late, first week of term plus visiting relatives not much time.

****

Chapter Six - Dolce

"I heard you interviewing Cornelius Fudge this morning," Monique said to her husband on Tuesday evening. She was sitting at the kitchen table doing accounts, while Callum was making tea. Theo was in the living room, reading, but he could hear them clearly through the open door.

"He sounded like an idiot," Monique continued. "You didn't have to be quite so ironic."

Callum snorted. "I don't need to make him sound like an idiot, he _is_ an idiot. That's why he's our ex-Minister, not the Minister any more. 'Course, that just makes him think he can make unjustified remarks about how the current administration are doing things."

"It _was_ a fairly dicey coup that got him out of office -"

"Yeah, I know, and Minister Bones gets hammered for it in the media daily. I thought it was time we stopped the retrospective canonisation process Fudge is going through."

"I thought the media were unbiased."

"We _are_ unbiased. We're hard on politicians whether they're in office or out of it. Isn't that what unbiased means?"

Monique laughed. "No, that means totally biased."

"You think I'm right, don't you, Theo?" Callum called through the door. "We're very even handed."

"Hmm? Oh, yes. You're desperately trying to backtrack after the debacle last year when it turned out Harry Potter was telling the gospel truth about the Dark Lord being back. But you are doing an enthusiastic job of attacking the current Minister, I'll grant you that." Reading in the living room was a sort of compromise. Theo would have felt much more comfortable spending his time holed up in his room. But Monique and Callum had taken him in, and he owed them some sociability. They weren't hard to get on with, or anything like that. So he could make the effort.

"That wasn't me," Callum protested, "that was Helena Summerby. She interviews like a Jarvey. I have great respect for Amelia Bones."

"Yes, Callum, most unbiased," Monique said blithely. "Admit it. You hated Fudge when he was in office, and you still do. I'm quite happy to despise him. He lost us a year to prepare for this war."

"So am I," Callum admitted. "Mostly because I was taken in. It was so much easier to dismiss Dumbledore and Harry Potter than to face reality, and Fudge encouraged that every step of the way. Who told the truth? The _Quibbler_ and Rita Skeeter, for God's sake. Talk about an unholy alliance. The most nonsensical publication in the country and the most unscrupulous, untruthful journalist I know. And what about us, the mainstream media? We played right into Fudge's hands." He sounded disgusted with himself. "Never again. At least, not me. The _Daily Prophet_ is still a Ministry mouthpiece. Better than last year, though. They made _Pravda _or _Izvestia_ look unbiased."

"_Pravda_?" said Monique and Theo at the same time.

"They were Muggle newspapers, in the Soviet Union - Russia, that is - totally government-controlled. The names meant "Truth" and "News", but the joke used to go that there was no truth in the News and no news in the Truth."

"You still can't believe the _Prophet_," muttered Monique.

"But between it and the _Quibbler_ - how that persuaded people, I'll never know."

"You mean, you'll never know why people didn't listen to your august station instead," Monique teased.

"They believed because it was plausible," Theo called. "They believed at Hogwarts because Umbridge banned it as soon as it came out. The parents believed because their children told them it had been banned. Everyone else did because the details matched up, and besides, who swallowed that story about Diggory and an accident?"

"They tried to _censor_ it?" Callum's voice was incredulous. "If that had happened in Hogwarts in our day, there would have been full-scale rioting!"

"There was full-scale rioting. As soon as Dumbledore left, all hell broke loose for Umbridge. She'd put so many stupid rules in and taken so many House points away, everyone realised that they had nothing to lose. So they started fighting back."

"Did you?" inquired Monique.

Theo snorted. "I couldn't. It would have been tantamount to standing up and declaring myself against the Dark Lord."

"Fudge is stupid, but he isn't a Death Eater," Callum commented, but there was a tinge of doubt in his voice.

"Of course he isn't. But he was incompetent enough to help the Dark Lord by accident. He wanted Fudge in power, so anyone at Hogwarts who did sucked up to Umbridge. She sent Dementors after Potter, for Merlin's sake."

"I never heard that story," Callum said. He sounded thoughtful. "You don't know if there's any way to substantiate it…?"

Theo shrugged, even if Callum couldn't see him. "She confessed in front of witnesses, but you won't get a word out of Malfoy and his lackeys. Potter and his friends heard it, but they have bigger fish to fry than Umbridge."

"That must have been an interesting year for you," Monique said. He could hear the scratch of quill on parchment again.

"I spent a lot of it sadly unable to be located." Theo paused. "You know, I've spent most of my time at school sadly unable to be located. It's so much easier."

"Easier for what?"

"Easier when your classmates expect you to come and bully first-years, or get Gryffindors into trouble, or watch Quidditch in thunderstorms. I'd as soon not have anyone actively against me."

"Tell me you don't not go to Quidditch matches!" Callum said in mock astonishment. "Where's your House spirit?"

'"I have plenty of House spirit!" Theo said indignantly. "Quidditch isn't the be all and end all of life at Hogwarts."

"It must have changed a lot since we were there, then," Monique said.

"It's not the be all and end all for me. I like watching it, I just can't be bothered going out in the rain and wind and sleet to yell myself hoarse over a school game. I go if it's sunny."

"That's reasonable, I suppose," said Callum. "Tea? Either of you?"

"Yes, please," Monique said.

"No, thanks, I'm fine." Theo turned the page. Not that he was paying that much attention to the book. Mysteries did not require attention, unless you wanted to spoil the plot. That was why he read them.

"Right, then."

"There we go." Theo heard Monique rolling up parchment. "That's that over with for another month. Oh, thanks."

Callum emerged into the living room, tea in hand, and sat down on the couch. "Perfect. Time for Coro St."

"Time for what?"

"It's a television programme. Totally trivial, of course. Monique, are you coming?"

"I suppose so. Don't worry if you don't understand, Theo, he's been making me watch it for thirty years now and I still don't understand it."

"I won't worry." Theo shook his head as Callum turned on the tele- television. It was fascinating how Muggles did that, but he didn't really see the point of it. There wasn't much point to a lot of things Muggles did. Soccer, for instance. No matter how many times Anne explained it, he was never going to understand the attraction.

Coro St turned out to be a lot of Muggles from Manchester having fairly mundane problems with their lives. None of it made any sense whatsoever. After the first time Theo asked Callum for an explanation, despite Monique shaking her head frantically, he left well alone. A three-minute speech on who that character was still didn't enlighten him, and he suspected three hours would not have.

Muggles. They invented television, and they used it for this.

* * *

Almost as soon as Anne had decided that she wanted to go back to the wizarding world, it decided to come to her, in the form of Mai Ng, who came over for the day on Tuesday. Anne had almost forgotten the plan. Mai lived about an hour's drive from her - amazing, when the rest of her friends were scattered all over the country - but she'd been out of the country for the last month, so Anne hadn't communicated with her for quite a while.

"So," Mai began, seating herself in Anne's chair, "how's your life been lately?"

Anne hesitated. "Er…pretty boring, really. You know what the last few weeks of the holidays are always like. Too much homework and too little else to do. How was Vietnam?"

Mai shrugged. "All right. It's just so…strange. I dunno. With going to Hogwarts I've forgotten most of the Vietnamese I knew when I was little, and all my relatives there expect me to speak it to them. I could understand them all right, but talking back was hard."

"You're lucky, though, knowing another language."

Mai rolled her eyes. "It's not like it's useful or anything. How many times in my life am I going to go to Vietnam?"

"Lots, if your family lives there." Anne paused to shut the window - it was getting breezy. "Have your parents decided about…"

"Not yet." Mai looked down at the floor. "They're still thinking about it - if this stupid war doesn't keep on going, I think they'll stay. It's just so dangerous -"

"You're pure-blood, you'll be fine." Anne sounded more bitter than she intended to.

"Oh yeah? Lots of pure-bloods have got killed. It's who you support, not what your blood is. That's just the excuse. No one would be stupid enough to actually believe all that stuff about blood purity."

"They believe it," Anne said flatly. "No one would be stupid enough to go to war to put a psychopath in power. But they'd be stupid enough to go to war on a lie."

Mai shifted in her chair. "Why are we talking about the war, anyway? It's so depressing. So. What have you been up to these holidays?"

"The usual. You know. Playing my flute, doing my homework, looking after my brother and sisters. Stressing over my exam marks. Reading the paper. What else is there to do?" 

Mai shook her head. "Honestly, Anne, don't you ever do anything exciting? It's like you're happy to just sit there and let life drift on by. You should be out…I don't know. Enjoying yourself. Seeing boys. _Doing_ things."

"I prefer not to measure happiness by how many dates I have planned. It doesn't seem like a very good yardstick."

"Well, not necessarily dates." Mai looked around, then leaned forward conspiratorially. "Don't tell Gabby, but I think that's all a bit overrated."

"I wouldn't know, I've never been on one."

"Never?" Mai said doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

"No," Anne said firmly, "I've never been out with anyone." It was true. In a literal sense.

Mai sighed. "Anne, you need to be…here, more often. I mean, you're always here, you just never seem to be _here_. We keep not noticing you, except when you're _not_ there, and then we notice that. How do you do that?"

"Being not noticed is much easier. Much less stressful."

Mai frowned. "But then you can't talk to people. Or…I don't know…interact with them. That's what being in Hufflepuff is supposed to be about, we're people people."

"Any other criticisms of my personality you want to tell me about?" Anne said tartly.

Mai flushed. "No, no, we like you the way you are, I just don't understand why you're like that."

"You don't need to." Anne knew she was being unreasonable. _Theo understands perfectly, but I've never expected Mai or the others to even try. Why start now?_

She decided to pull the conversation onto safer ground. "Look…oh, never mind. Sorry. So, I never asked. How were your exam marks?"

Mai perked up. "Pretty good, actually. Mum and Dad were pleased. Divination was awful. I dried up completely with the crystal ball. Transfiguration was the best. What did you think of that?"

"I did okay. Failed Herbology, though. I'm going to have to marry someone with a green thumb, or live in the city. Plants die when they see me coming."

Mai nodded, grinning. "Sarah still thinks you were responsible for that gerbera she tried to grow in second year dying -"

__

This is better. So much safer.

In the afternoon Anne and Mai took Terry to see a film - rather, Anne took Mai and Terry. Mai had done Muggle Studies, but never been to the cinema before. She kept staring at everything, and Anne had to remind her not to talk so loudly about magic ("not that anyone will put two and two together but it's better if we don't draw attention to ourselves.") Anne was reminded strongly of Theo watching the electric jug boiling, and promised herself on the spot that she was going to get Theo to come see a film some day.

__

Or watch one on video, at least. Maybe Shakespeare. I know he'd like that. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen a whole play. I suppose I have to sometime.

The actual film was the only downside to the whole affair. Mai was held by the spectacle, and Terry was held because it was about the Spice Girls, but Anne was left convinced that if she heard one more Spice Girls song in her life, she would be forced to seek the wretched excuses for musicians out and murder them. Slowly.

Anne's mother drove Mai to a stop along the train back to her home, and Anne went as well. It was only when she got in the car for the journey back that she realised she'd managed to not think about the war or anything related to it for almost a day. She'd been too busy talking to Mai, teaching her how to shoot a netball, and then taking Terry to the cinema. They'd talked about school, and OWLs, and what the others were up to, and the Quidditch rankings (that had been mostly Mai, of course), and whether there would ever be another ball for them to go to, and what the chances were of getting a decent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Mai had been optimistic, pointing out that three out of five had been competent (even if one had turned out to be a Death Eater in disguise.) They'd only had two really incompetent teachers. Anne had pointed out that since it got harder and harder to find someone every year, and they were _already_scraping the bottom of the barrel, the omens were not good.

It had been, Anne realised on the way home, a good day. A good day in both her worlds.

* * *

Theo was heading to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich when he spotted the photo albums on the bookshelves. Come to think of it, he'd noticed them last night when Callum has been watching the "television." It was _amazing_. Like a very, very good illusion - or a Pensieve, from what he knew of them - except on a screen, and it was real, and happening _at the same time_ somewhere else. There was a lot of Muggle technology in the O'Neill household. Callum's mother was a Muggle, so he'd grown up with it. The more Theo saw, the more impressed he was. Of course, it wasn't anything near as good as magic, but for people with no magic at all they'd done pretty well.

Theo got out the bread, then gingerly opened the fridge to find the leftovers from last night's roast. He could see the point of having something to keep food cold if you couldn't use Cooling Charms, but it hummed. Theo wasn't sure what it would do next.

Sandwich made - he'd learnt that over two summers of caring for children - he took it back to the living room. He was sure the O'Neills wouldn't mind if he had a look at the photo albums. Just to see if there were any pictures of his mother. Not that he hadn't seen them before, of course, but most of the ones at home were of Adrienne Nott in her last six or seven years, including the last few shots, taken when she was nearly skeletal with the cancer that killed her. He wanted to see if there were any of her in younger days.

The first album began with Monique's departure for Hogwarts. There were photos of her in her school robes, laughing with her friends, yelling at Quidditch matches, walking through Hogsmeade. Callum featured in some of those, a stocky grey-eyed boy with a cheeky smile.

Theo turned another page, and there was his mother, tall and gawky, sitting in the courtyard. She was leaning back against the mossy stone wall, glancing up only occasionally from the book in her lap. Her hair was much longer than in any photo Theo had ever seen, flowing over her shoulder nearly down to her waist.

__

Addie, sixth year, the caption read, but Theo wasn't sure if that meant hers or Monique's.

Adrienne figured in several more photos. Mostly she was on the edge of the crowd, or caught unawares, hair swirling about her. Theo lingered longest over one that must have been taken during her last year. Adrienne and Monique stood in the middle of snow-covered Hogsmeade, arms around each other, breath steaming in the air as they waved at the camera. A blue-and-bronze scarf, or so Theo knew it would have been, was wrapped around his mother's throat, and her still-long hair was lifting in the breeze. She was smiling, and laughing. She looked very young.

__

Addie and me, Hogsmeade, Christmas '64.

The rest of the album showed Monique's final two years at Hogwarts. Theo flipped through that fairly quickly - there was no one he recognised - but he did note the growing prevalence of Callum in the pictures, until the last two pages didn't have a single picture of Monique without him. In one on the last page, Callum, in full Quidditch gear, had picked Monique up and was spinning her around in sheer exuberance, in what looked like the middle of the school pitch. The photo was filled with other players and Hufflepuffs celebrating.

__

Hufflepuff 280, Ravenclaw 150, the caption read. _'PUFFS WIN THE CUP!!! And one reserve Chaser finally gets to fly._

Probably the last time they ever won the Cup, thought Theo. _When would that have been? The sixties?_

He realised that he'd finished the sandwich. Putting the plate on the coffee table, he got up for the next album, a relatively thin blue leather affair. The first page showed a serious-looking Monique, her hair in the messy low bun she had worn it in for the five days Theo had known her, standing with her parents in what must be their house. The Jugsons had lived somewhere in Oxford; as far as Theo knew, the house had been sold when his grandparents died.

__

Grandfather and Grandmother Jugson look happy. Must have been before Monique left home. Adrienne was there, too, hair pinned up this time, smiling approvingly at her sister.

__

Starting work - Mum and Dad very happy! said the caption beside it. Photo-Monique shifted on her feet, and something shiny glinted at the neck of her robes. Theo leaned closer, trying to see, and for just a second a chain with a ring slipped out. Photo-Monique reached up hastily to stuff it back down the neck of her robes, looking startled. Her parents didn't appear to notice, but Adrienne wore an unhappy frown.

__

Mum knew about her sister running off with a half-blood before_ the wedding? And didn't tell anyone?_

Apparently not, because the next few photographs - after a couple of Monique and Callum - were of their wedding. The happy couple were positively radiant, even if the bride's parents were conspicuously absent. Adrienne was standing to one side of Monique, wearing elaborately embroidered dress robes. Her hair scarcely whispered around her chin.

__

My aunt rebelled by acquiring a Muggle mother-in-law. My mother got a haircut.

Seems like I take after the wrong sister.

Adrienne carried herself ramrod-straight, and she was smiling, but it was a glittering smile, pinned on for the occasion. When she looked at Monique, basking in happiness, it softened into reality, but when her gaze touched on Callum it froze again. The groom's parents got pure pure-blood scorn.

__

No guessing what she thinks of this marriage. But she's there. Maybe a little more rebellious than I thought.

Theo skimmed over the rest of that photo album, and the next. It was all Monique, Callum and their children. His mother appeared occasionally - always noted as "Addie" - always, if Callum was in the photo (or clearly taking it) with that fixed smile. If he wasn't, it was different. In one picture of Adrienne surrounded by her niece and nephews - she had the youngest, Catriona, on her knee, and Janet was leaning on her shoulder. Just any maiden aunt with her sister's children, any woman with well-loved young relatives. Or in one with Monique, they stood, arm around each other, just as in the photo from Hogsmeade.

__

You were very good at pretending, Mum, weren't you? Too good.

It was a shock when, three albums in, he turned the page to see his mother sitting in this very living room cradling a dark-haired baby. It took a moment for Theo to realise that it was himself.

__

I didn't see any pictures of Da-

No, I wouldn't, would I?

He flipped back to the last photo of Adrienne; yes, there was a wedding ring on her finger. A few before that, and it changed to a sapphire engagement ring. So this was well after she'd met Eric Nott. But never a mention, never a photo. Of course there wouldn't be. Not in this household. Did his father even know it existed?

Theo put the album down, and went to make another sandwich. One hadn't really been that much, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to continue. All too soon, the pictures would come to an end.

Appropriately armed with food, Theo forged ahead to the last two years of his mother's life. There were quite a few of her with Theo, Monique's children with Theo, Monique with Theo, even one - he recognised it with a jolt - of Liam O'Neill holding him in the living room of Theo's own house. This was an era he recognised; his mother's increasing paleness and frailty. In the very last one, where she sat with a squirming two-year-old Theo on her lap, she looked as though his struggles to escape might shatter her at any moment. The page had been stained long ago by water.

There was nothing to note Adrienne's passing; just the cessation of her appearances in the album, the blankness in Monique's expression in the following photos. Theo drew back into himself to find that the sun through the net curtains had shifted around to fall directly on him, it was three o'clock, and he'd barely touched his second sandwich. He sat there for a long moment, watching his mother stroke his hair and whisper at him to hold still, before he closed the album and laid it aside.

__

I never really wondered, did I? Adrienne Jugson Nott. She wasn't even a name, really, she was just my mother and Dad's wife, some old photographs and a dusty harp. She had a sister, and friends, and a job, and a life. She was thirty-four when I was born; she'd lived twice as long as I have now. She was more than just my mother. She had her own choices, and her own decisions.

But they weren't the same ones as mine, were they? Everyone says she believed in what the Dark Lord did, even Aunt Monique. She loved her sister and her sister's children, and she loved a man who believed they should all die. How did she rationalise that away? How did she pretend until the day she died that it all made sense?

Maybe she didn't. Maybe she worried and wondered. Maybe she didn't even try.

Why did you have to die then, Mum? Why can't you answer any of my questions? I chose to walk away from my family. I chose that, but you went away almost before I can remember.

I would have liked to have a choice.

He wrote to Anne that night. Even if he had to be careful how he phrased it, he needed her - no, advice wasn't the right word. Or maybe it was. He needed her thoughts, anyway. Her answer came back the following morning, offering a small piece of calm.

…_I don't know if your mother could have given you any answers, but I think that you can find them yourself. Pretending isn't the answer, you have decided. Maybe she would have decided that. Maybe…I want to give you the answers myself, but I'll leave it there, because that is the thing I absolutely cannot do for you. It wouldn't be fair._

Anyway, I'll be seeing you in four days. We'll talk.

Love, Anne

It wasn't what Theo had wanted. Anne was right, though; she couldn't give him any answers. The whole point of…everything, at the moment, was that he worked out what he was doing and whyfor himself.  
Still, only four more days. 


	7. Ad Libitum

**A/N**: Sorry this is a bit late. The next one should be faster, now I've got over some scenes that weren't working.

**Chapter Seven - Ad Libitum**

Anne scanned the children's end of the library with a growing sense of exasperation. She'd volunteered to take Nicola there out of what now seemed a rather misplaced sense of duty, and lost her as soon as they'd set foot in the place. Not that she minded looking after Nicola that much, but she did wish her youngest sister could try and keep within sight.

She finally spotted her over by the picture books, looking like a doll curled up in one of the armchairs. Her concentration appeared to be entirely on whatever she was reading. Anne hurried over.

"Come on, Nic, we've got to go and get these books issued."

"Can I read when I get home?" Nic pleaded.

"Of course you can," Anne told her, laughing. "Now come on, the library closes soon. We're going to meet Mum and come home with her."

"I know that," announced Nicola, climbing off the armchair. "Can you hold some of my books?"

Anne looked at the proffered pile of three books. Three small books.

"I think you can carry those, Nic."

Nicola made a face. "Let's go then!"

She was off towards the issues desk at a great rate of knots. Anne walked behind, allowing Nicola to work off energy. She shifted her own books from under one arm to the other. The library was familiar and strange at the same time. Familiar, because her mother worked here, and Anne had been coming in to get books or return them or meet her mother for years. Strange, because the worn carpet and cushions and still picture books were so different to the Hogwarts library, the one she was used to. Five years was a long time. The tree outside the library window had grown until you could no longer see the top. The cushion covers had all been replaced. Time had slipped by, and at Hogwarts, she'd missed it completely.

"Anne, you have to get your books!" called a voice from behind her. Anne realised she'd walked straight past the issues desk, and turned to go back.

"Sorry, Nicola. Here you go." Nicola took her library card with great care, and presented it to the librarian. Anne nodded hello to the woman; she'd known her for years.

They finished their issues, waved to their mother, who was shelving, and left the library. Outside it was blustery. Grey clouds were whipping across the sky, and Anne wondered where the summer was going. It was back to Hogwarts on Monday. Anne wasn't sure to be relieved or depressed; she'd miss her family, but Hogwarts was safe. Theo would be safe. It sounded like he was having an interesting time with his new relatives, but Anne couldn't help worrying.

"Wait up, Nic!" she called, picking up her pace. Nicola had run ahead and was swinging off a lamppost gleefully.

"Hurry up, Anne!" her little sister yelled back. "I can see Eddie!"

"I'm coming!" Eddie had gone into town with some of his friends. He was coming back on the bus to meet Anne, Nicola and their mother when the library closed at one o'clock.

Eddie reached Nicola first, turning to wave goodbye to one of his friends. Anne got to the lamppost a few seconds later to hear Nicola excitedly showing Eddie her books.

"...and this one's about some dogs, and Mum says she'll read some of it to me because it's too hard for me, and I found an Asterix one, and Anne's going to try and tell me what the Latin means. Have you read Asterix?"

"Yes, I have," Eddie told her in a superior tone. "I've read all of them."

"Oh." Nicola paused. "Well I haven't, so don't tell me what happens."

"I'll make sure he doesn't," Anne assured her. "Hi, Eddie. Did you get the CD you were looking for?"

"Yeah." He pulled it out of his jacket pocket. "Proper music, not the stuff you listen to."

Anne examined it critically. It appeared to be some rock band.

"Anything's better than what Terry likes," she said dryly.

"I like the Spice Girls too!" Nicola protested vigorously. "They have good songs!"

Anne and Eddie exchanged dubious looks.

"Mum's not finished for a while," Anne said, "so I promised Nic we'd go and get an ice-cream. Coming?"

"Do you need to ask?" Eddie grinned, and Anne relished the moment of sibling intimacy.

_He's been so on edge since Terry got her letter, I've missed him like this. _

The three of them set off for the nearby café, Anne and Eddie chatting about music and Terry's regrettable tastes, Nicola running ahead. She'd cunningly palmed her books off on Eddie, who had had a soft spot for his youngest sister ever since Anne and Terry had started Hogwarts.

Nicola reached the café first, and stopped outside, waving at her older siblings to _hurry up_. Anne waved back, not walking any faster. She'd learned long ago not to bother keeping up with Nic - or Terry.

The hazel-wood wand in her left sleeve shifted down when she lifted her arm to wave (the other was occupied with books), and Anne felt a twinge of unease. Maybe it was just the blustery weather - she'd never liked shifting cloud - but the street seemed somehow too open. Nicola was too far away, too -

_Ridiculous. Death Eaters aren't going to show up at the local café! _

Still, other words came to mind. Harry Potter's.

_Always carry your wand. I mean always. Not just when you're outside your House or home. And that means carry it on you. If you have to stop and get it out of your bag that's too long. A friend of mine also advises that you don't carry it in your back pocket, due to the potential for accidents, but I'll leave that up to you. As long as it's somewhere you can reach. If you need to use it, it will not be a duel. Nobody will wait for you to salute before attacking. _

Theo had given her that advice, too.

_Always carry your wand. If you got caught without it...carry it. Please. _

She shifted her books from her right arm to her left. She could still reach her wand, but she could reach it with her wand hand, now, and that was more important.

"You're so _slow_," Nicola complained when they caught up to her.

"You're too fast," Eddie replied. "You should wait for your elders and betters."

Nicola rolled her eyes.

"You should wait for the people who have the money to buy your ice-cream," said Anne pointedly.

Nicola latched onto her arm. "I'll stay right here." She looked up with big, adoring eyes.

Anne smiled at her. "You're only doing it for the ice-cream."

"So can I have it now?"

"Shameless, you are," Eddie told her as they entered the café.

* * *

In any event, Anne, Eddie and Nicola ended up catching the bus home. When they went to meet their mother after her shift finished, she told them there'd been a problem with some overdue books and she had to stay to sort it out.

"Someone went and shelved the books without returning them, so now we have to do a shelf search,"

Mary Fairleigh sighed. "I hate to say it, but I have a feeling it was one of the students we hired for the holidays. They did seem to find their Walkmans more interesting than shelving. Have you three got enough for the bus home?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Eddie. "Anne?"

Anne mentally reviewed the contents of her wallet. "Should do. The next bus leaves at ten past, we'd better get to the stop."

"I don't _want_ to go on the bus," Nicola started to grizzle. "I'm tired. I want to go home!"

"You're going home, just not with me," her mother pointed out. "Anne says you've been very good all morning, so can you be good for a little longer?"

"Maybe," sniffed Nicola. Anne exchanged a glance with her mother. It was as good as they were going to get.

"C'mon, we're going to miss the bus!" urged Eddie. "Let's go!"

"I should be home by three. See you at home," said their mother.

"Bye, Mum," Anne replied, dragging a reluctant Nicola out of the library by her hand.

* * *

Paul Amberley swore under his breath and crossed off yet another town. He cursed the idiots on the Knight Bus who couldn't remember where one boy had got off even under torture. He cursed his nephew for letting an attack of conscience get the better of him. He cursed the Dark Lord for insisting that someone go and find the boy when it meant checking every family in every area the bus had stopped in that had a child at Hogwarts. He hadn't even been able to find most of them, and he had to be back at work soon. Keeping up appearances.

He checked the next stop on the list. At least there was only one family in the suburb - a Mudblood one, too. No chance Theodore would be there, but he couldn't afford to not visit the place. Lifting his wand, he Apparated to the outskirts of Chelmsford, Essex.

* * *

The bus route didn't go past their house, and they had to get off a good ten minutes' walk away. Nicola started to complain when they were half-way there.

"I'm tired. These books are heavy."

"Give them back to me then," said Eddie in exasperation. "Just don't complain about the walk."

Mission accomplished, Nicola shut up for all of the next hundred metres. In this part of the town most of the gardens were bordered by trees that had grown roots under the footpath, breaking up the concrete. Nicola amused herself by counting them.

Anne shifted her books from one arm to the other. The wind from earlier had picked up, and it was whipping her unbound hair around her face. She reached up to push it back, and wished longingly for a hair-clip, like the one Theo had given her, which now rested on her dresser. Or a hair-tie. Anything, really.

"I hope cricket's still on tomorrow," Eddie said as they passed the house of one of this team-mates. "The weather doesn't look too good, and it's the last holidays game."

"I hate this weather," Anne said moodily, spitting another piece of hair out. "Stupid wind. It's always like this when the Quidditch is on. We all go out and freeze in the stands and the players nearly get blown off their brooms."

Eddie's mouth tightened. "I wouldn't know about your sort of sports," he said coolly.

Anne knew that nothing she said would sound right, so she didn't say anything.

They rounded the corner to the beginning of their street, and Anne felt a prickle run up her spine. There was a wizard standing on the corner. Or, at least, a man wearing dark robes. His back was to Anne, but he appeared to be scanning the houses on the street.

Anne reached for her little sister's hand, then changed her mind. She might need her wand hand free.

_Oh...crap. Books in the wrong arm. Shift them. Catch Eddie_'s _eye. Warn him to be quiet. Nic's still counting tree-roots, so leave her alone. He hasn't turned around. I'm probably making a huge fuss over nothing. Wrong sleeve. He's going to notice if I make a grab for my wand. Okay. Take it out. Eddie's watching, he knows I'm up to something. We're getting closer. Oh god. Slip wand up my right sleeve. It won't stay there long but it doesn't have to. _

They were almost up to the corner. The man was turning around. Anne searched desperately for an inconsequential remark, but horror of horrors, her sister beat her to it.

"Are you lost?" Nicola asked.

The wizard smiled. He was a nondescript man with brown hair, someone you wouldn't look at twice in the street. Anne knew it was a normal smile really, but her overactive mind imbued it with menace.

"As a matter of fact, I'm looking for someone. Do you know a family called the Fairleighs who live near here?"

"I don't think so," Anne replied smoothly. "I'm pretty sure there's no-one called that here."

Nicola wore a puzzled frown, and Anne's heart stopped altogether when she opened her mouth.

"Do they have any kids?" Nicola asked. "I'd like it if there were more kids here."

"Two daughters," the man smiled. "One of them is not much older than you."

"_Do_ they live near here?" Nicola turned to Anne and Eddie. "Eddie, do you know them?"

Eddie opened his mouth, then hesitated. "Wait...weren't they those people two streets over who moved in June?"

Anne forced herself to take the ploy and run with it. "Oh, yes, the Fairleighs! Didn't the older one go to our primary school, Eddie? Anna or Anne or something. They sent them to some posh boarding school in Scotland."

"Yeah, that's right." Eddie snorted. "This place wasn't good enough for the likes of them, oh no. Couldn't have us contaminating their darling daughters."

Anne saw something flash in the man's eyes. Contempt, maybe. Or something more.

"That's not fair, Eddie, they were nice enough," Anne argued. "Didn't they get scholarships?"

"I dunno," Eddie shrugged.

"Was there a moving truck?" Nicola protested. "You didn't let me see it!"

The man gritted his teeth, and Anne gave him her best worried smile.

"Look, I'm awfully sorry, but they're not around any more. We could find out if anyone knows where they've gone and tell them you're looking, though."

"I don't think so," the man said sharply. "You lot get on your way."

_No charm now he can't get something out of us. Not us stupid Muggles. _

He made to brush past them, but Nicola called out.

"Wait! Did you mean _us_? We're Fairleighs too!"

Everyone froze. The man turned around to face Anne, who stepped automatically in front of Nicola. Her heart was beating double time, _allegro_, she thought irrelevantly, _no, presto - dear God, they've found us, we're going to be another headline - _

"Those people who moved last week?" he said, drawing a wand from his robes. "You lying Mudblood, did you really think -"

The Death Eater was cut off short by Eddie launching himself bodily at him from behind and tackling him to the ground. The wand, held lightly in his fingertips, went flying and then rolled _back_ to him along the uneven pavement. Eddie was doing his best to distract the man, though, seemingly determined to bruise him as much as possible.

"Anne, he's a wizard!" Nicola yelped. Anne dropped her books and made a frantic dive for the wand. _I knew I shouldn't have worn a skirt today. _She managed to grab it, but the Death Eater got a fistful of her hair and pulled. Anne lashed out with her foot, hitting him in the leg, and heard the _crunch_ of something breaking as Eddie continued to settle things the Muggle way. Anne rolled away and caught a glimpse of Nicola, who was doing nothing to help but jumping up and down yelling "Hit him, Eddie, he was mean to Anne!"

Anne grabbed a fence paling to pull herself to her knees. The Death Eater wasn't very tall, but he was still bigger than Eddie, and he managed to throw her brother to one side, rising to his feet. Anne saw his eyes narrow, knew he was about to launch himself at her, and yelled the only spell that came to mind.

"_STUPEFY!" _

The Death Eater's wand clearly wasn't suited to her - it jerked in her hand - but part of the unsuitability seemed to be uncontrolled power surges, or maybe that was just her anger, because the Death Eater was flung backwards onto the footpath. His head hit it with a dull thud that would normally have made Anne wince.

Nicola stopped jumping up and down. "Yay, Anne, you spelled him!"

Anne staggered to her feet, brushing the gravel out of the graze on her left leg. Physically she wasn't tired, but her heart rate was still several times normal. She offered Eddie a hand up. He took it, wincing.

"Ow. I forgot how much it bloody hurts to hit someone like that."

Anne nodded, trying to calm herself. "Thank you. For trying to stop him."

Eddie shrugged, rubbing at his shoulder. "He insulted you, and since your wizard boyfriend isn't here to defend you..."

Anne bit back a smile at the thought of Theo in a fistfight with a Death Eater. "Er, well, I doubt he would have tried to kill someone with his bare hands."

"He's a wizard. You don't know anything about doing things the ordinary way. This guy's about three inches taller than me and he was losing because he didn't have his wand."

"Anne, Anne, was he one of the bad wizards? Why is he here?"

Anne frowned down at the unconscious man, surrounded by her scattered books. Her own wand was still up her sleeve, so she transferred his to the other hand and brought out her own. It was much more comforting.

"He's looking for Theo, I think."

"Mum!" said Eddie suddenly. Anne looked up at the street - thank god it had been deserted on a weekday afternoon - to see the family car pull up beside them. Her mother rolled down the window and leaned across the passenger seat.

"Anne, I sorted it out faster than I thought - what the hell is going on?"

"There was a bad wizard, and Eddie and Anne stopped him!" Nicola announced proudly. Their mother leaned back, got out of the car, and stalked around to view the Death Eater. He was quite a sight, Anne thought. Robes, a broken nose, and a large lump forming on the back of his head. Such an ordinary-looking man, too.

Mary Fairleigh put her hands on her hips. "I want an explanation for this." Her gaze transferred to her son, who had a bruise rising on his left cheek and was wincing every time he moved his arm. "Eddie, have you been fighting?"

"He hit the bad wizard!" Nicola said.

"Death Eater," Anne corrected wearily. "He's a Death Eater."

Her mother's eyebrows went up.

"I see," she said anxiously.

Anne knelt down and grabbed the wizard's left arm.

_Left. Theo said it was the left, didn't he? _

She pulled back the sleeve of his robe to reveal what looked like an ugly black tattoo, the snake and skull motif almost pulsing. It looked faded - Anne wasn't sure why - but it was there.

"A Death Eater," she said again, standing up. "He should be out for a while. I Stunned him, and he hit his head pretty hard - but - oh, Mum, they're looking for us. He was looking for us. For Theo."

Mary Fairleigh closed her eyes, biting her lip. "Dear God in Heaven. What on earth do we do with him?"

"I don't know," Anne admitted.

Her mother opened her eyes again. "Well. First we can pick up all these books. I'm not having books from our library treated this way, they get worn out fast enough as it is."

This was more like the mother Anne knew. Intellectually, Anne was well aware that her mother was next to helpless in this situation...but she steered well away from that thought.

"Sure, Mum."

They had loaded all the books and a still-chattering Nicola into the car when Anne heard the distinctive and dreaded _pop_ of someone Apparating. She had her wand out even before a familiar-looking witch and a strange wizard appeared around the corner.

"Well, well, well," said the wizard in amused tones, gazing at the prone Death Eater. "Mr. Amberley. You finally tripped up."

Anne looked down at the Death Eater, who still wasn't moving, then up at the wizard. She didn't have far to look - he wasn't all that much taller than her. His grin widened.

"You must be Anne Fairleigh."

"Uh...yes?" Anne quavered. She'd finally placed the witch, who had completed her surveillance of the street. Her hair was long and black today instead of spiky pink, but she was one of the Aurors who had been guarding the school last year. Aurors. They were safe.

"No Muggles in sight, although we'll have to check the houses," the woman said crisply. "Hah. Paul Amberley. I knew we'd get him after those letters."

"Can I take it you two are some form of authority?" Anne's mother interrupted smoothly. "This...this wizard just attacked my children and according to them, he's one of those Death Eater people. What on earth is going on?"

The wizard changed gears swiftly, holding out his hand.

"Mrs. Fairleigh, I assume? I'm Hal Phillips, with the Auror department. That's roughly equivalent to your Muggle police. This is my co-worker, Nymphadora Tonks." The witch shot him a very nasty look, probably for the name, and interrupted.

"We're here because we received an alert that there'd been defensive magic used in this area by an underage wizard, and with things like they are we tend to treat that as indication of an attack. This seems to have be under control more than most, though."

Anne's mother put one hand on her hip. "I see. What does that mean."

"No one's dead," Hal Phillips replied bluntly. He nudged the Death Eater with his foot, not very gently. "Mr. Amberley here has been under suspicion as a Death Eater for some time. We'd better get him in to the Auror headquarters. Tonks, do you want to -"

"You take him, I'll get statements," Tonks agreed. "I should see you back there in about an hour. Contact the Obliviators, too, just in case."

"We should check for -"

"If there were any others here, they'd have come to the rescue by now, I think."

"Right-o. I'll see you back at headquarters."

Phillips grabbed the back of Paul Amberley's robes, none too gently, and Apparated away, taking the Death Eater with him. Anne saw him look at her and shake his head, still with that amused grin, just before he vanished.

"Isn't it impossible to Apparate with someone else?" she asked out loud.

"Yes," Tonks said. "And then again, no. It's...what you might call a classified skill."

Nicola leant her head out of the car window and said in a loud and fretful voice "Are we _going_ yet?"

"In a minute, Nicola," Anne's mother replied. "Ah...Ms. Tonks, if you need to talk to my children, it would probably be best to do that at our house. We're quite close by."

"That would be perfect," Tonks agreed. "We just need clear witness statements. The last thing anyone in our Department wants is some Death Eater getting off for lack of evidence."

"Sounds like it's the last thing _anyone_ wants," Eddie said, rubbing his shoulder.

* * *

Theo studied his school trunk critically. He knew that everything he had fitted in there. He knew because when he'd arrived here, it had been after fleeing his aunt's house, and every possession he currently had had been in this trunk. However, there was now a pile of assorted books and odds and ends on the bed which stubbornly refused to fit into the trunk.

Sighing, he decided to just take everything out and start again. It was going to work. It was.

It was four o'clock on Sunday afternoon and he was due to depart for Hogwarts from King's Cross Station at eleven the following morning. This morning had been taken up with a visit from Jan Hayle, her husband, and her children. On further reflection, Theo had decided he definitely did like these relatives. His first impression of Jan had been surprisingly close to the mark - a firmly practical woman. He wasn't surprised to discover she'd been in Hufflepuff. Her husband, Richard, had given Theo no end of grief about being in Slytherin (himself being a Gryffindor) until Jan had rescued Theo by reminding her husband that both her brother and sister had been in Slytherin, and there was nothing wrong with it.

The children were, actually, if he was being held under torture and forced to admit it, rather sweet. Theo did not like that description. It was the sort of thing Anne would say. Not that that was a bad thing in itself, but it wasn't a word he would customarily use. Still, they were, he reflected as he pulled the last robe out of his trunk. Leonora, or Lee, was a talkative and stubborn three-year-old who reminded him strongly of Terry in her innocent determination to get into as much trouble as possible. Evan was a quieter but equally mischievous five-year-old, all the more dangerous because he did not signal what he was about to do. He just jumped on you from the back of the couch. Or crept up behind and yelled in your ear. Despite himself, Theo had been impressed at his young cousin's ability to stay quiet. From what he remembered of Lucas and Celia, they could certainly not have done so.

Theo pushed his hair out of his eyes, wondering how to go about this. Perhaps if he piled all the books at the bottom...but he'd want one or two for the train...wait a minute. He didn't have to sit with anyone he didn't want to. He could sit with Anne if he wanted to.

Theo made up his mind to do so. Preferably without company, if it could be arranged.

There was a knock on the door, and Theo reached back with his foot to hook it properly open.

"Yes?"

"My god, are you sure no one's been letting off hand grenades in here?" asked his uncle.

Theo followed Callum O'Neill's eyes to the bed, which was now strewn with pretty much everything he owned.

"Er...yes," he said. He thought he knew what a grenade was. It exploded, didn't it? Like a type of bomb? "I'm just having some difficulty persuading my things they belong in my trunk. I know it should, because it all fitted in when I came, but..."

He trailed off. Callum looked serious. Too serious. "What's wrong?"

His uncle sighed. "Theodore - someone's put - no, I won't jump to conclusions, but...it's a good thing you're leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow, I think."

"Who-"

"Catriona. Our youngest. You haven't met her."

Theo realised his hands were clenched into fists. No. It wasn't _fair_. Leaving home had been a good plan. There weren't supposed to be consequences. He was supposed to get some peace.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know," Callum told him, coming into the room. "It was probably opportunistic - Cat's a quarter Muggle, after all. They attacked her and a few others, walking through a Muggle part of London. She was lucky - managed to Apparate away - but she's in St. Mungo's, and -"

"She's _alive_?" Theo felt his spirits rise. Not dead. Hurt was bad, but if she wasn't dead, then it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd thought.

"Oh." Callum blinked. "Did you think I meant that?"

Theo shrugged. "It's a war. What else would you mean?"

Callum shook his head slowly, eyes fixed on Theo. "You aren't that young, are you?"

Theo wasn't sure how to respond, so he shrugged again. "It depends on your definition."

Callum's lips quirked. "I suppose it does." His eyes closed for a second, and Theo saw the strain. Alive his cousin might be, but it wasn't easy. "Monique and I are Flooing there right now to see here. Do you want to come?"

Theo gaped, taken aback. "You want _me_ to come?"

Callum eyed him quizzically. "You are family, and it's likely to be your last chance to meet Cat for a while. She was going to try and come this week, but she couldn't make it. All of our children were really excited about having you back, you know. You were their cute baby cousin, and they adored you."

Theo looked at the mess on the bed, just for something to do. Family who'd known him for a week and wanted to see him. He'd been prepared to lose all of that when he'd left the Amberleys. Somehow he hadn't, somehow he'd _gained_ relatives, even if he'd still lost his father, and it was - frightening. He couldn't help feeling like he didn't deserve it.

"Sure," he said, looking back up and clearing his throat. "Sure, I'll come."

* * *

Theo regretted his decision as soon as they entered the hospital ward.

_It must have been because of me. There's no other reason. If I hadn't come, they wouldn't have attacked her. I tried to save myself and I brought this on family I didn't even know I had. I can't face this. _

There were so many people in the ward - so many injuries, with the war - which one was his cousin? The rake-thin girl lying unconscious to his left, the dark-eyed witch staring at nothing, or -

His aunt and uncle solved the problem by hurrying over to the bed nearest the girl. Apparently, disappointingly for his attempts at self-castigation, Catriona O'Neill was the ash-blonde witch with her left arm in a sling and a stunning bruise on her left cheek. She was not unconscious or staring blankly but sitting up in bed and making notes on a pad of paper. She looked up as Monique and Callum approached.

"Mum, Dad, I didn't expect you this soon!"

"We can go away again if you'd prefer it," her father suggested. Catriona shot him a dry look and laid quill and parchment on the bedside table.

"I'm glad you came," she said, reaching up to accept her mother's hug, and Theo heard a nervous quiver in her voice. She wasn't so old, was she? Only seven years his senior. "Sit down, Dad, the chairs aren't meant for decoration."

Callum O'Neill pulled up a chair beside his daughter's bed, and Monique perched on the end of it. Theo hovered near his aunt, feeling a strong desire to just go away. They didn't want him here. They didn't _need_ him here.

"So you're the cause of all my troubles." It was said with a joking smile, but it didn't help much. Catriona's eyes fixed on him. "Hello, Theodore. You're most likely sick of hearing this, but you've grown a lot since I saw you last."

Theo stuck his hands in his pockets, feeling spotlighted.

"It has been mentioned once or twice. I'm sorry to say I don't recall you at all."

Catriona smiled. "And why would you? You can't have been more than Lee's age when Aunt Addie died."

"No. No, I wasn't."

"Cat, honey," said her father, "can you tell us what happened?"

"There's not all that much to tell," she shrugged. Then she winced. "Ouch. I was coming back to work from lunch with some friends when I got ambushed in a dark alleyway. It was Death Eaters - I was lucky, I suppose, they decided to beat me up. I...assumed they were looking for information about Theodore."

"They must have been," Theo said morosely.

"It's not...necessarily...true." Monique's voice was thoughtful. "You're part Muggle, Cat. It could have just been an opportunistic attack. It probably was."

"But that doesn't make se-"

"It does," Callum interrupted Theo. "Think about it. If anyone knew where you were, you'd be dead now. The whole point of staying with us is that you never met us before, we have no known association with anyone prominent on Dumbledore's side, and your father's probably forgotten we exist, if he ever knew. We're no different from thousands of other half-blood families in this country. The same ones who are getting hurt in this war."

"This isn't _your_ fault, Theodore." Catriona had a very soft voice, unlike her brisk-tongued elder sister. "I should have known better than to take that short-cut, but..."

"If they were looking for you that wouldn't have mattered, Cat," her father assured her. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"How did you get away?" her mother asked.

Catriona sighed. "I remembered to do what I _should_ have done as soon as I saw them - Apparate away. They only hit me with a few spells, but they were quite nasty. Dislocated shoulder - that's why I've got a sling, it needs to be immobilised for a couple of days - broken eye-socket, that's the bruising, multiple lacerations on my arms and torso, and three broken toes. I'll be in here for another day, at least."

Theo tried to block out the casual recitation by staring at the wall, but it wasn't working. He shouldn't have come here. He shouldn't.

Callum patted his daughter's uninjured hand. "I'll pop in tomorrow."

"Dad, I'm not a little kid anymore!" she protested. "But that would be nice."

"Do you have any idea who it was?" Monique said, a frown in her voice. She shifted on the bed.

Catriona shook her head slowly. "No. No, definitely not. One was a woman - I know that - but the other two...with those masks, there's no way I could tell. I doubt very much it would have been anyone I'd ever met. Liam managed to get himself sent in to interview me, and I've already told him everything I know."

Monique turned her head abruptly to look at Theo.

"Cat's right, there's no need to beat yourself up about this. Once is misfortune, twice is coincidence, thrice enemy action, and this is once. Not thrice."

Theo must have looked taken aback, because Callum and Catriona laughed.

"You're just lucky Jan isn't here to see you look like that," his uncle told him, "she never could abide moping."

"I don't mope," Theo informed them indignantly. "I brood. I've been told off about it quite often enough."

Cat grinned, a brilliant smile that reminded him of Terry. "When Liam was about your age, he used to get into sulks over almost everything. Jan would barge into his room and haul him out kicking and screaming. It was always entertaining to watch."

Her parents exchanged looks. "Entertaining for you," her father said wryly, "you didn't have to patch over the damage afterwards."

"And I definitely don't sulk," Theo told his cousin.

"I'm sure you don't," she assured him earnestly. Possibly _too_ earnestly. "Mum told me all about your great escape. You go back to Hogwarts on Monday, don't you?"

"Finally," he agreed. "That is - not that I don't like staying with you, Aunt Monique, but -"

"That's quite all right," she told him, eyes twinkling.

"How's your work taking this?" Callum asked Cat. "Have you let them know-"

Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, no, I've forgotten to let them know where I am! Here I am taking notes and they probably think I'm skiving off - damn - I'll have to get the hospital staff to take the message to the post office -"

"What do you do?" Theo asked curiously.

"Oh, of course you wouldn't know. I do public relations for the Holyhead Harpies. Not much on at the moment, since it's the off-season, but we're gearing up for the coming season so I'm swamped doing media releases about all our new players."

Theo blinked. "Sounds like an interesting job."

"Oh, it _sounds_ like it...I have to do the drudgework before I can get into the more interesting things. Fastest way to get promoted, though." Catriona's voice was cheerfully certain. Theo remembered that she had been a Slytherin.

They stayed and chatted for about fifteen minutes longer before a Healer appeared to shoo them away. It was bittersweet for Theo. On the one hand, it was so comforting to be caught up in the workings of a normal family, to _have_ the acceptance that he'd been so certain he was losing forever only a week ago. On the other, it wasn't the family he'd grown up with, and the shadow of why Catriona was in hospital crouched on his shoulder, whispering blame every time she winced, every time he noticed again the bruises and bandages and shadows under her eyes. It was easier by far to say it was the war, the war's fault, the Dark Lord's doing, but he couldn't throw the responsibility away entirely.

_I'm not responsible for this, but I helped cause it. Didn't I?_

* * *

It took Theo another two hours to finish packing when they got back to the O'Neills' house. It wasn't that his things didn't fit, it was that his mind wasn't on the task. He ended up having to shove his socks any which way into the left-over gaps, but at least he got the damn thing closed. Then he flopped down onto the bed and just lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

_Luck. I've been so incredibly lucky, or was I just not important enough to worry about? I'm alive. I have relatives who do not believe I need to be killed to maintain family honour. They don't know where I am, and that's beyond lucky, it's miraculous. Anne and her family are safe...unless someone's attacked them in the last two days, at least, and I'm sure I would have heard about it.. My cousin got away with injuries. _

_So why am I feeling so disconsolate? _

_Apart from the fact that the rest of my family _does_ think I should be killed, my father...God, I don't know what my father thinks, except I've done the worst thing I could to him short of murder, I've put a lot of innocent people in grave danger, oh, and I haven't touched a piano for a week and a half. _

_This is horrible. I'm brooding. It could be worse. It could be much worse. I could be dead. Anne could be dead. Monique and Callum could be de- this is far too depressing. _

_Time to think about something else. _

As easy as it was to lie on the bed and wallow in self-pity, Theo made himself get up and find _The Lord of the Rings_. For one thing, he was determined to finish it before he saw Anne tomorrow. For another -

_Hey, I'm going to see Anne tomorrow! _

The world should not seem a brighter place because of one plainly obvious fact, but Theo had realised long ago that lo - that some things were hopelessly unreasonable, and you just had to put up with it.

He still felt much better, though.


	8. Da Capo

**Chapter Eight - Da Capo**

Anne sighted the barrier between Platform 9 and Platform 10 with a wave of relief. They'd made it safely there. Ever since Friday her mother had been anxious, her father tense, and her siblings in various states of excitement. They seemed to regard nearly having their home found by a Death Eater as some form of adventure. Tellingly enough, however, it was Nicola and Eddie who shared this attitude the most. The ones who would be living in that home while Anne and Terry were safe at Hogwarts...Anne tried to ignore the guilt. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't.

Eddie and Nicola had had to go to school, so only their mother was there to see Anne and Terry off. Anne felt another pang of guilt at the circles under her mother's eyes. Sleeplessness was a curse they all shared at the moment, but she'd been able to protect her parents from it for so long.

"You remembered your pencil case, didn't you?" her mother was asking Terry. "And your Potions ingredients?"

"Mum, I wouldn't leave _those_!" Terry protested indignantly. "Stop wriggling!" The last was addressed to her yellow-eyed cat, Medusa, who was starting to writhe in her owner's arms. "We're almost there. Hey, isn't that Theo?"

She pointed over by the barrier, and Anne saw Theo trying to look nonchalant and failing miserably. He kept glancing nervously at the barrier, waiting for the right moment. Standing next to him was a tall witch whose Muggle clothing - a skirt and jacket - was far more normal than most.

Theo's gaze landed on Anne and her family, and to her utter astonishment, he lifted his arm to wave. Terry waved back enthusiastically and dragged her trolley around to head his way. Anne stopped dead, causing her mother to crash into her.

"Anne, what's the matter?" her mother asked. "Have you forgotten something?"

"No, no, I - no, I haven't," said Anne vaguely, hauling her heavy trolley to point in the right direction. "I was just surprised, that's all."

Terry, going at her usual speed, had reached Theo and appeared to be giving him an enthusiastic account of the last week. The witch accompanying Theo was looking around them with a look that Anne knew well. The kind that knew the monsters were under the bed, and was trying to find them before they found her.

"Hello, Theodore, how have the rest of your holidays been?" Anne's mother greeted Theo warmly. "Peaceful, I hope."

"Ah - yes. Very peaceful, thank you, Mrs. Fairleigh."

Theo caught Anne's eye, and she found herself looking down at her luggage trolley. She was suddenly, acutely aware of how many _people_ there were at King's Cross station, and she felt like they must be all looking at her and Theo.

"Anne," Theo said softly, and she forced herself to look up.

"Hey, Theo." She bit her lip to try and stop the awkward smile spreading on her face, but Theo's answered it, and maybe the station wasn't _that_ crowded after all.

"I'm Mary Fairleigh," Anne's mother was introducing herself to the witch next to Theo. "You must be Theodore's aunt."

"Monique O'Neill," the tall witch confirmed with a smile. "It's been a while since I've been here - my youngest left Hogwarts seven years ago."

"Glad to be going back?" Anne asked Theo. Terry was waving frantically to some of her classmates.

"Very much so," he agreed. "It's going to be an interesting year."

"Isn't it just. It's...funny, talking out here."

"Exposing."

Anne nodded. "You could say that."

"You three had better get going," Monique O'Neill interrupted gently, "it's a quarter to eleven. Have a good year, Theodore, and write to us whenever you feel like it."

Theo blinked, but recovered smoothly. "Thanks, Aunt Monique. I will. And...thank you for having me."

"It's been a pleasure," she said firmly.

"Take care of yourselves, now," Anne's mother was telling her and Terry. "Try not to get into any more trouble than you're already in."

"I don't get into trouble, she does," Anne protested, hugging her mother. "Be careful, Mum."

"See you at Christmas, Mum," Terry added, getting a hug in her turn.

Anne noticed Monique O'Neill hugging Theo farewell, too, and that seemed to surprise him more than anything else.

"Be quick, you'll be shielded by that group there if you move," she told him.

Terry went first, skipping through the barrier. Anne and Theo followed with a final wave to the two women watching them go. Anne reached out to squeeze Theo's hand as they went through to Platform 9 and 3/4. She almost lost control of her trolley, and Gwaihir squawked, but it was worth it to feel the quick pressure of his hand on hers.

Anne wasn't sure what to do when they boarded the train - the strange looks they were getting from their classmates were unsettling enough - but Terry solved the problem for them.

"Hurry up, there's an empty compartment here!" she called back to them.

Anne hesitated, but Theo steered her in with a light touch on her shoulder.

"We'd better get one before they all fill up," he said.

"_You _want to spend a whole train ride with Terry?" Anne muttered.

"Well, no," Theo muttered back in her ear, "but I'm sure we can find a way to get rid of her at some point."

Anne bit back a giggle. Terry, who had plumped herself down in the window seat, rolled her eyes.

"Ew, if you want to flirt, go somewhere else."

"If you want to leave, the door's just there," Theo informed her, sitting down on the seat opposite.

Terry just wrinkled her nose, staring out the window. "Look, there's Harry Potter! And I can see Alex, too. wonder if anything exciting happened to her this summer?"

"Too much excitement is a bad thing," Anne reminded her, seating herself next to Theo because she wanted to and she could, even if it did feel like someone was going to tell her off any minute. She didn't talk to Theo, or see him, or know him outside of one or two times and places, and now she did and it was wonderful and strange.

"Your aunt seems nice," Anne said, by way of an opening.

"She is. It's almost worrying. I wish...I spent so long working myself up to walk away from my family and now I have all these relatives who _want_ to meet me. Everything's turned upside down."

"It has." Anne hooked a leg up onto the seat, shuffling around so she was facing Theo more. "That reminds me - I have to tell you about what happened on Friday. Your family almost caught up with you."

"They did catch up, yesterday. I think. My cousin got attacked. I went and visited her in St. Mungo's with my aunt and uncle." Theo spoke matter-of-factly, but he looked so tired. "She'll be alright, but...I suppose if they were really after me they'd have come after me, not her, but I can't be sure."

"They came after us on Friday. Or we think they were, at least - we were lucky," Anne told him. "Nic and Eddie and I were walking home from the bus stop and we ran into a Death Eater searching the neighbourhood. Eddie and I almost had him fooled but Nic let slip we were the people he was looking for - it wasn't her fault, she couldn't know."

"It wasn't your fault but you still wanted to hex her silly," Theo filled in.

"That, too," Anne admitted. "Eddie was wonderful - he jumped the man from behind and nearly tried to kill him with his bare hands. It didn't work, but it was pretty amazing."

Theo laughed, the first proper smile she'd seen from him today. "I wish I could have seen that."

"He said it was only because you weren't there to do it," Anne said cheekily. "Now that I'd like to see."

She was rewarded by Theo's snort. "The day you see me trying to settle things the Muggle way is the day I ask to be transferred into Gryffindor."

"That might be easier, this year."

"It could be, at that." Theo sighed. "But what can any of them do without the whole world knowing they did it?"

"They could hex your sheets," Terry burst in imaginatively. "They could set a fire and say a candle did it. They could -"

"Thank you for the encouragement," Theo told her bitingly. "Any other cheerful thoughts to start the year?"

"Yeah, we get to do a research project in Potions this year, just studying how it's made, and I think I might do something like the Draught of Living Death, because -"

"That's cheerful? Anne asked.

"Of course it is!"

Theo exchanged a wry glance with her. At least someone was enjoying Potions.

"I brought the music to some of those songs," Anne offered. "Mum said I could bring it, 'cause no one at home really plays it, especially the old pop from the sixties. I thought we could try it just for a change of pace."

"That's not pop," Terry said in disgust. "Pop is fun music. All that stuff's ancient. Good pop music is like the Spice Girls!"

"The _what_? And what's pop?" said Theo.

"Don't ask," Anne said, shuddering. "Just don't. I'm thinking of asking someone to Obliviate me so I can't remember the music."

"It can't be that bad if Terry likes it."

Terry looked torn between horror, shock, and flattery.

"Oh, it can. Imagine the most bland, trivial, driveling depths music can possibly descend to."

"That bad?"

"Worse," Anne told him with relish over Terry's protests. "Much, much worse."

"Anne, there you are!" Ellie said from the doorway. "Gabby's off with her boyfriend somewhere, and Sarah's in the Prefect compartment, so we thought we'd find you and- what are _you_ doing here?"

The last was directed, predictably enough, at Theo, who returned his coolest, most arrogant stare. "Sitting."

Mai, who had appeared beside Ellie, eyed him with unconcealed antagonism. "Just because Anne's too nice to tell you to go away doesn't mean we are. Now get out, Slytherin."

Anne bit her lip, unsure of what to do. She should really - but it wasn't Mai and Ellie's fault they - oh, _dear_.

"I don't think so, thank you very much," Theo told her. "I quite like it here."

"So I see," declared Mai, her eyes narrowing. "But we, on the other hand, have no intention of sharing a compartment with some Death Eater's brat."

"I don't think he does either," Terry said impishly.

"Now what's going on here?" Ernie Macmillan sounded as self-important as ever. "Move aside, you two, you're blocking the corridor." Being much taller than Mai and Ellie, he was able to see over them into the compartment. "Oh." The certainty faded from his voice. "Hello, Nott."

"Macmillan." Theo nodded courteously. "Don't be too hard on your Housemates. They're trying to evict me, and I'm being intractable."

"He is, indeed," Anne said dryly. "Come and sit down, guys, the train's going to be full up soon."

Ernie's eyebrows raised. "Oh. I see. Has there been..."

"Some developments on the home front." Theo shrugged, carelessly. Or so it would appear. "The situation reached what you might call breaking point."

Ernie nodded over Mai and Ellie's mystification. He was pompous, Ernie, but not stupid. "We'll still be seeing you at the DA, then? Both of you?" He looked at Anne. She nodded.

"Definitely," Theo said.

"Excellent, excellent. I'd better get back to the Prefects' compartments, then. I'll see you around." With that he departed down the corridor.

Mai and Ellie gaped after him.

"What the hell?" Ellie said. Terry, in her corner, was giggling uncontrollably.

Anne exchanged glances with Theo.

"Be nice," she admonished softly.

"For you, anything," he replied with a quick smile.

"Liar," Anne laughed. She looked back over her shoulder. "Are you coming in, or not?"

"But we - you - I -" Mai was speechless. Ellie was quicker to react, stalking in and dropping herself in the seat next to Terry. After a second, Mai joined her, still looking very confused.

"Right," Ellie said. "I want explanations."

"I can't really see anything to explain," Theo said.

"I wasn't talking to you," Ellie said witheringly. "Anne, what are you doing? And your sister's here, too! You have to learn to stand up for yourself."

From the front of the train came the sound of the whistle, and Anne felt the seat press against her back as it began to move off.

"Look, I'm sorry to disappoint you," she began, "but I'm not being pressured, bullied, coerced, or even ignored, really. I can take care of myself. And of Terry, if it comes down to it."

"_I_ can take care of myself," Terry protested. Theo raised his eyebrows, and she glared at him, but both were overridden by Mai's more than slightly hysterical voice.

"Anne, if you could take care of yourself, you wouldn't be sitting on the train next to a Death Eater!"

"Given that she isn't sitting next to a Death Eater, that's rather a moot point," said Theo dryly.

Mai shot him a look of mixed unease, fear, and hatred. "Don't bother lying. Everyone knows about your father."

"That's not quite fair, Mai," Ellie said carefully. "He's not responsible for what his father does." Her face hardened. "He's responsible for what he does, though. Anne, don't you even remember what he called you?"

"Called me?" Anne frowned. "No. What on earth do you mean?"

"In the corridor," Theo prompted. "You tripped. About eighteen months ago?"

She finally unearthed the memory. "Oh. Oh, that. I'd almost forgotten about it. How come you remembered?"

"Because it was horrible!" Ellie announced indignantly.

"Guilty conscience." Theo's lips twitched wryly. "You do remember that sort of thing."

"I'm surprised you had enough of a conscience to feel guilty," Mai said coldly.

"What did you call her?" Terry addressed Theo with some curiosity. "Was it really bad?"

"Nothing he's going to repeat for your ears," Anne told her firmly.

"I should think not," Theo agreed. "Someone so sweet and innocent."

Terry rolled her eyes.

"Why would you care about what Terry hears?" Mai challenged.

"I'd like to know what you're doing in the DA," Ellie interjected, folding her arms. "I thought you Slytherins were responsible for it getting broken up, back in fourth year."

"None of your business," Theo said in clipped tones, and Anne couldn't help agreeing silently. "And I had nothing to do with Umbridge discovering it that year; I was in the library doing homework at the time, if you must know."

"You were one of Umbridge's Inquisitorial people, I remember that," Ellie said.

"How could I possibly disappoint my Housemates?"

"Yes, but why are you in here?" Mai was still very unhappy, hunched up on the seat like she was going to be attacked at any moment. Anne didn't know what to do. At least Ellie was being logical. "And Anne, why are you in the DA? You never said!"

"It wasn't very important," Anne shrugged. "At least - not then. Besides, I thought you would have figured it out."

"Well, you're so quiet, and you're always coming and going, it gets hard to notice," Ellie said. She frowned at Anne thoughtfully. "I take it you two know each other from the DA?"

"Something like that," Theo said lightly. "Every Hufflepuff there has already seen fit to have a go at me, so please, spare yourself the effort."

"I wasn't going to." Ellie was in one of her moods. "You still haven't said why you're _here_."

"Because I'm not a Death Eater," Theo said flatly. "The Dark Lord has little love for anyone who refuses to follow him."

Ellie studied him for a moment longer. "All right, then."

Mai, surprisingly, gave Anne a tentative smile. "Gabby is going to be furious with you, you know. Lying for all those years."

"I wasn't lying," Anne protested. "I just left out important bits of the truth. It's a very different thing."

"You can tell her that."

"Look at it this way," Theo advised. "Nobody in your dorm is going to try and kill you."

"You could be surprised," said Ellie.

"Anne, Theo, look, there's a really long jet trail!" Terry announced suddenly. Anne craned past Theo to look obediently out the window.

"Oh, yes, I see."

"Where? What?" Theo said helplessly.

"Up there, in the sky. The long white cloud?" Terry pointed.

"What's a jet?"

"It's a sort of aeroplane," Anne explained, leaning back.

"Are those those things that Muggles use to fly?" Mai asked.

"Yeah, they carry lots and lots of people, and there are big ones for carrying people and little ones for shooting people and-"

"Terry, they're not really _for_ shooting people," Anne pointed out.

"Wands aren't just for killing people, either," her sister objected. "But they kill people with them anyway."

"I suppose so," Anne replied dubiously.

"But what _is_ an - an aeroplane?" Theo asked again.

"Yeah, how do they get so many people in them?" chimed in Mai.

Anne exchanged glances with Ellie. Her mother was Muggle-born, and she would have a fair idea about what a jet plane was...and how long it would take to explain.

Well, it was better than awkward silence.

* * *

For once, there was not a cloud in the sky when the train finally arrived at Hogsmeade. Theo strongly suspected this was due to some irony-loving deity, given the number of storm clouds brewing on his personal horizons. The fact that they continued, over the next few hours, to brew rather than thunder, only increased the tension.

Much to Theo's surprise, he'd survived the train ride to Hogwarts unmolested by any of his Housemates. He suspected a)they didn't know where to find him, or b)quiet surveillance by other parties. Namely, the DA. After Ernie Macmillan had seen him publicly associating with Anne, a large number of them had seen fit to drop by on the pretext of "looking for someone", or, if they happened to be Prefects, "just patrolling." Macmillan had reappeared to ask "how things were going." If Theo was honest with himself, he actually got on quite well with the Hufflepuff Prefect. Even if this was deeply worrying.

Of course, having to share a compartment with Anne's friends hadn't been the height of amusement, but everyone had survived. He was extremely impressed that Anne put up with them on a day to day basis. Shallow would be a charitable term to use. The thought intruded that they were just normal teenage girls, but so was Anne, and she _never_ talked about clothes.

Well, she never talked to _him_ about clothes.

The ride to Hogwarts had been uneventful. He had been hijacked by several Hufflepuffs into one of the Thestral-driven carriages, and politely grilled on the events of his holidays. Theo was beginning to wonder if all the attention was still attributable to a desire to look out for Anne. They were awfully...sociable. It could be vaguely possible that they actually wanted to talk to him.

That was verging on wild speculation, but since none of his old friends...well, Housemates, friends was stretching it, would be talking to him, it might be nice to...

There were a lot of things that would be nice.

But between the Hufflepuffs and the uneventful train ride, Theo almost managed to forget his troubles until he walked into the Great Hall. Then they came tumbling back. Moving to the Slytherin table required, from habit, the assumption of his old mask; but at the same time came the knowledge that he didn't have to. There were no more lies, and no more pretence. That was clear enough when he spotted his classmates. Crabbe and Goyle weren't paying attention - that hadn't changed. But Blaise Zabini dismissed him with one glance, now Theo had proven himself unworthy...by his standards. Pansy Parkinson sneered. Millicent Bulstrode looked like he was a particularly unwelcome guest. Tracey Davis had the grace to smile, but it was fleeting. Daphne Greengrass looked away. The expression on Draco Malfoy's face was enough to make Theo look behind him for a Gryffindor, but he knew it was his appearance alone that caused that look of malice.

It shouldn't have hurt, but it did. He wouldn't call any of them friends, really, yet...they were the people he'd shared a dorm, classes, meals, his life with for the past six years. Theo could tell himself he didn't value their opinion, but it seemed that some part of him did. It was pride, really, pride and habit. That was all. Habit.

Habit and pride led him to sit right next to them, and he paid for that, too, right through the feast. None of them were quite stupid enough to try anything, not in the Great Hall, but the ostracism was as blatant as a curse. Daphne, next to him, faltered a question about his holidays at one point, but that was cut off sharply by Draco Malfoy.

"Nothing he could say to a _decent_ Slytherin," Malfoy sneered. "You want to be careful who you talk to."

Theo ignored him - it wasn't worth it - but that was enough to put an end to conversation between Theo and his fellow seventh-years.

Salvation came in the unlikely form of Estella Haywood, two seats down and across, and a member of the DA.

"I hear you had an interesting time over the summer, Nott," she addressed him. Theo looked up, startled. Estella Haywood was not precisely talkative.

"That depends on what you call interesting," he told her. "Eventful, yes."

"You made it back."

"Yes, it wasn't _that_ eventful."

"It was for some of us." She glanced down the table. "Gerald Cameron got killed last week."

"He's in your year, isn't he?" Theo didn't know the sixth years very well.

"He was." Estella gave an odd, one-shouldered shrug. "I think this will be an...eventful year."

"It will, indeed. As long as events confine themselves to...other places."

"I don't think there'll be many...events...at Hogwarts." Estella smiled. At least, her teeth showed. "Quite a few of us would prefer to keep it...neutral."

"Neutrality sounds like an excellent option for...certain places," Theo agreed. "I imagine the teachers would get quite upset if things began to get out of hand. Professor Snape has never been fond of...disruption."

"He hasn't, no. It would be a great pity if our House provided that disruption, wouldn't it?" Estella raised her voice slightly.

"It would," Theo said blandly, but far more important were the slight nods Estella got from most of the sixth years in sight.

_If Malfoy doesn't keep things civilised on our own territory after this, he'll have more than me to worry about. We play our power games, but there have to be limits, for everyone's safety. Nobody wants the war to play out in our common room, and now there's public agreement on it._

_That's assuming a certain amount of intelligence on Malfoy's part. _

_That could be assuming too much. _

* * *

The rest of the feast passed without great incident, until Theo was leaving the Great Hall. His Head of House appeared, bat-like, out of the shadows.

"A word with you, Nott. Now."

Theo nodded - he'd been expecting this - and followed Snape meekly down to his office. He got no more than calculating looks from the rest of his House, including Haywood. She was on his side - maybe - but the games of Slytherin went on, regardless.

_Like they always have, except for the ones who are so bent on their own goals that they don't notice, or the ones like me who do just enough to survive it, or the ones who don't care. And all of those put together are few enough. _

"You seem, Nott," Snape began without preamble as soon as the door to his office shut, "to have been spending entirely too much time among Gryffindors. At least, that is the most charitable front I can put on your actions."

"Do you have any better suggestions, sir?" Theo said coldly. What did Snape expect him to have _done_? "I played along as long as I could, but there are limits, and my ability to lie to the Dark Lord would have passed most of them by quite a long way. As it is, I'm alive, and free, and that's a damn sight more than I would be any other way!"

Snape seated himself behind his desk in a swirl of black robes. "Mr Nott. If running away from home was the only solution you could think of to your dilemma, then I must wonder why you were placed in this House."

Theo swallowed his anger, or attempted to. "What was I supposed to do? I couldn't lie my way out of it, not anymore. I had to go. I had to."

"You had...other options, if you had remained where you were."

Theo wasn't sure he'd caught Snape's meaning correctly, but he pressed on regardless.

"_I_ am not, and will not be, anybody's spy."

Snape ignored the accusation. "And last year-"

"- was different. Which is one of the reasons I had to go."

"How...honourable."

"Sir - I thought I could avoid choices, once. I was wrong. But there is, yes, nothing dishonourable in choosing. And nothing wrong. This isn't the sort of war that lets you hedge your bets, or at least, it doesn't let me do so."

Snape regarded him for a moment. "You seem very sure of yourself, Nott."

"There have to be some limits. We're supposed to be ambitious, right? I have an ambition. To get away from this war and live my life in peace. With the emphasis on _live_."

"I see."

There was a moment's silence. Theo's eyes wandered around the office, to the jars on the shelves with contents best not described, the shadows in the corners. It couldn't be much fun to work in. Did Snape prefer it that way, or was he cultivating an image?

"Nott." His eyes snapped back to Snape. "Shall we go over your situation? You have publicly and openly rejected the Dark Lord in a way that has brought shame on your family and a resulting obligation to remove that shame. You are sharing a dormitory with four boys who are, quite possibly, under orders to deal with you. You are a member of a House which has a history quite at odds with your stance. Your allies are the staff, who cannot be everywhere, and certain of your fellow students, only one of whom is in your own House. I, as your Head of House, am not able to firmly deal with the situation. You are, in short, in as much trouble as I have ever seen any student of this school achieve. What do you propose to do about it?"

Theo cleared his throat. He had thought about this. "Well, sir, my family are unable to reach me unless they can get inside Hogwarts, which has only been achieved by one man, who is currently dead. The same goes for any other Death Eaters. There is my cousin Celia, but frankly, if she's a genuine threat, then I've already lost this game. Most of my House will be at best indifferent, at worst hostile, but the majority of them will not be interested in setting the sort of precedent that letting Malfoy and his gang attack me on our own ground would set. There was a discussion about this during the feast, and at least the sixth years will be neutral. Estella Haywood will probably be on my side. I think. If I'm not hopelessly outnumbered, and then she'll probably fetch help. The impression that my classmates have, I believe, is that you would frown on attacks inside our common room or dorm, which are easily attributable to them. You could back that up." He paused, but there was no response. "The staff can't be everywhere, but I can stick to public areas or places where other members of the DA are. Basically, if I'm careful, I'm safe. After all, if it was that easy to get at someone in Hogwarts, Potter would have been dead years ago."

"Mr. Malfoy and his friends are scared of Potter," Snape said contemptuously. "They are not scared of you. But you are, in the most part, correct."

"Most part?"

"I'm going to give you some advice, Mr Nott. As your Head of House, I strongly recommend you listen to it. You think Draco Malfoy is stupid." Snape paused. "He's not. Nor is he as easily dismissed a threat as you seem to imagine. Hogwarts is only safe to a degree. Take Potter, for instance. He is," Snape sneered, "the most well-guarded and watched student in this school, however little he deserves the privilege. He has escaped death on these grounds by the skin of his teeth on numerous occasions. While you are not nearly as high up the list of the Dark Lord's enemies, you are also much less experienced at escaping. If you want to have a safe year, Mr. Nott, you will need to be very, very careful."

"That's _it_?" Theo couldn't help saying. "Be careful?"

"Watch your tongue, Mr. Nott."

"Sorry, sir." Easier to apologise than antagonise Snape further. "Is that all?"

"That is all. You have a confrontation to get to, I believe."

"I believe I do. Thank you, sir."

Just as Theo put his hand on the door-handle, Snape's voice lashed out from behind him. "One more thing, Mr Nott. Anyone who starts a fight in the common room this year _will_ be punished. I suggest you do not."

"I won't _start_ any, sir."

"Keep it that way."

Theo stepped out of the office feeling like he'd just crossed a very deep chasm on a very thin bridge. Snape would stop fighting, but how far was he really going to go? How far were his classmates going to go?

If only he could camp out in the corridor overnight. It would probably be more comfortable.


	9. Tremolo

****

A/N I will try to keep updating regularly, but the next four weeks are my big dear-God-help-me-because-if-I-fail-my-life-is-over exams. Think of them as NEWTs. Nine of them. Only in four of the nine, I have to get the equivalent of "O" to pass. So if the story isn't updated, you'll know I'm making like Hermione and burying myself in books.

****

Chapter Nine - Tremolo

The atmosphere in the Slytherin common room could generally be cut with a knife in at least three places - it was a side effect of the colliding egos - but tonight was worse. The moment Theo walked in, he could feel the tension. Draco and Pansy, revelling in their position as senior Prefects, were giving the first-years the "welcome to Slytherin" lecture; Theo felt heartily sorry for them. At least the seventh-year Prefects when he'd been that age (hard as it was to remember) had lent some _dignity_ to the whole cunning and ambition thing. Apart from family tradition, he'd come away from that feeling pride in his House. There was pride in Malfoy's speech, but it was ill-concealed arrogance. Theo felt like shouting _No, that's not what being a Slytherin is about_, but instead he worked his way around the edge of the common room, avoiding Malfoy's baleful glare. He felt particularly sorry for a chubby dark-haired boy who had clearly not been expecting to end up here, and looked much as if he wanted to run away very fast.

Theo had spotted Crabbe and Goyle lurking behind Draco in the common room, so he was hopeful of a clear run to his dormitory. That was spoilt by the sight of Blaise leaning over _Theo's_(thankfully unopened) trunk. He decided to take the situation head-on.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" he purred viciously as he walked in.

Blaise straightened insolently. Theo had never been able to read him, never tried to, and was now wishing he'd tried harder.

"The question, Nott, is what you think _you're_ doing."

"Going to bed," Theo replied icily.

"You'll be lucky to see Christmas, you know," the other boy told him. A contemptuous smile flickered He had always been one for controlling his expressions, Blaise Zabini. "I always thought you weren't very bright."

"You think I _care_ about what you think?" Theo shot back. Besides, it was a blatant lie. Blaise had asked for his help in Ancient Runes all last year.

"You don't seem to care what anybody thinks." For a moment, there was frank disbelief on the other boy's face. "How could you do that?"

Theo let his eyes drop to Blaise's left forearm, and up again. "I'm not the one who needs to be asked that question, Zabini."

"I'm not ye-" Blaise clamped his mouth shut. "I'm on the right side."

That seemed very funny, for some strange reason, and Theo found himself laughing so hard he had to sit down on his bed. The right side. Right. How were you supposed to tell?

Blaise snorted. "You've lost it, haven't you? You're just as insane as Potter. You're _dead_. You're a bloody traitor, and you're dead, and all you're doing is laughing!"

Theo sobered. So, one of his dormmates wasn't a paid-up Death Eater. That was good news. Of a sort. He wasn't under any illusions as to Blaise Zabini's loyalties.

He gave Blaise a mirthless stare. "You sound very confused, Zabini. I'll make it easy. I do not want any part of the Dark Lord's policies. That's it. I'm quite happy to call a truce for this year."

Blaise didn't flicker a dark eyelash. "No truces with traitors. I don't make those decisions, but I know the score."

Theo shrugged. It had been a long shot. "Very well, then. Trot along after Malfoy."

"That's what you should be doing, Nott." Draco Malfoy was standing in the doorway, a sneer written, as always, on his rodent-like features. "I always knew you'd end in a bad way."

Theo felt the first stirrings of intimidation. It was the sheer bulk of Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, backing Draco up; Blaise's dark stare.

__

When did we all come to this? I can remember my very first night in here. Six years ago. We weren't close, Crabbe and Goyle were still idiots, Draco was still arrogant, Blaise was still impossible to know, but it wasn't like this.

__

How in Merlin's name did we drift into lethal hatred? No, hate's too strong. I don't hate any of them, I just don't care.

Indifference, then. It's a poisoned brew, whatever it is.

He met Draco's eyes…indifferently. "Simply because people do not think you put the sun in the sky doesn't make them inferior beings, Malfoy. I don't agree with the things you believe in. Deal with it."  
"You're a traitor, Nott, and you're going to get what's coming to you." There was vicious delight in the blond boy's voice.

Theo realised the word didn't matter any more. Or…not in Draco Malfoy's mouth. What his father thought; what Anne thought; things like that mattered. Nobody in here did. They were just the people he had to endure for one more year. They'd ignored him, for the most part; now they were after him.

"I'm terrified," he said sarcastically. "You lay one finger on me here, and everybody will know who did it and why. You can't touch me here, and I can't touch you. Shall we leave it at that?"

Crabbe and Goyle's faces looked like thunder. Perhaps Malfoy had promised them they could have a go at him. Thugs.

Malfoy scowled, and Theo tensed. It was pure, pure bluff, but there was just enough truth in it that -

"You just wait, Nott," Malfoy spat. "You just wait. You might have decided to throw in your lot with the Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers, but it's not going to be long now before all of you are going to learn exactly what you're up against." He rubbed his left arm, unconsciously. "We're claiming back what's ours. You can't stop us. _Nobody_ can. Not Dumbledore, not Potter, not anybody."

"Does it make you feel better now you're standing behind the biggest bully in the playground, Malfoy?" Theo said. "Do you even have any idea what you're doing or why you're doing it? You've just thrown away any chance you had of independence or hope or a future because your precious Dark Lord offered you a few scrapings of power. There's nothing in it for you. The Dark Lord needs stupid young idiots, like all of you, all four of you, because otherwise he couldn't get any power. He's a half-blood. Did you know that? He's trying to get revenge on the world because his father abandoned him, and he's using people like you to do it, because you're so easy to manipulate. You've been trained up to it, haven't you? Told again and again what the _truth_ is. But damned if you've ever really thought about what it means. It just bolsters your ego, having someone you know isn't as good as you are. After all, they'd be a threat, otherwise. Geniuses like Granger, Quidditch players like Potter. You're willing to start a war on the basis of something you've never even thought about. Is that worth it?"

Not even a puzzled frown crossed any of their faces.

"They don't deserve to live," Malfoy sneered. "You've just fallen for their little line. They're worthless. They're stealing our power. That's all I need to know."

"Did it ever occur to you that the world is not a zero-sum game?" Theo snapped. _"Ever?_"

"Huh?"

"There is no rule saying somebody else has to lose for you to win!"

Blaise shrugged. "Someone has to be in power. It needs to be us. That's just how the world works, Nott."

__

But it shouldn't b-

I sound like an idealist.

I sound like Potter.

__

Merlin help me.

"The world," Theo sighed, "just is. If you just concentrated on your own lives instead of trying to ruin other people's, it wouldn't fall to pieces."

"The Mudbloods would take over-"

"I know this is a new and unfamiliar concept," Theo said bitingly, "but the world is not, necessarily, out to get you." _It's out to get me._

"I could almost feel sorry for you," Blaise told him. He glanced at Draco and his bodyguards. "You're on a hiding to nothing, Nott."

Theo allowed himself a smile. "Quite possibly. But nobody owns me."

__

Nobody owns me, _either,_ he could see Blaise thinking, but the other boy didn't dare say it. Not in front of three Death Eaters.

__

Where did we all go wrong?

* * *

Anne had spent the entire feast artfully avoiding conversation with her dormmates. This was not particularly hard in normal circumstances, and could best be done by making up a random piece of gossip and asking Gabby if she thought it was true. The ensuing discussion would meander away from Anne quite successfully.

This evening it was more difficult. Ellie and Mai had clearly briefed Sarah and Gabby on the particulars of their train ride and all four were doing their best to point the conversation that way. Anne was reduced to playing the idiot, which was not much fun at all.

"So, Anne, how were your holidays?" Sarah would say.

"Pretty boring, really," Anne would reply in the most casual of tones. "I barely saw anyone, just stayed around home."

"Not making any new friends?"

Anne would frown. "Unless you count minding our new neighbours, I think not. They're only six and nine. What about you, how did your holidays go?"

So the conversation continued. Anne scored a good half-hour's break by turning around and starting up a long conversation about Arithmancy with Gabby's boyfriend Chris, who was sitting across from her. Gabby, acting on reflex, stepped in and took over. Since she was the most persistent of the four, it relieved the pressure somewhat.

By the time they went down to the dorms, Gabby was almost jumping up and down in sheer frustration. Anne wished, not for the first time, that her dormmates were more…well, less interested in knowing everything about each other. She liked them well enough, but none of them was the sort of person she would have ever picked to spend seven years with. Still, it could be worse.

She revised that opinion as soon as they had walked down the barrel-roofed corridor and into their dorm.

"Right," said Gabby the minute the door was shut, "Spill, Anne. Mai and Ellie told us everything."

"Well there's not that much for them to tell you, so I don't see what the fuss is all about," Anne hedged.

"Anne!" Mai exclaimed, horrified. "You spent the whole train ride here sitting next to Theodore Nott, and he's practically a _Death Eater_, and half of Hogwarts dropped in to say hi for some weird reason, and you act like it's all normal! What's going on?"

"Nothing is going on -" Anne began.

"- that hasn't been going on for quite some time?" Sarah completed her sentence, eyes narrowed. "None of us is stupid, Anne. You were always going off to DA meetings all last year, for one thing, and you never told any of us. Why not?"

"You never asked," Anne said simply, sitting down on her bed. She might as well be comfortable for this. "You never ask where I'm going, anymore."

It was true, and from their reactions, cutting. They had always assumed about her. Assumed she had nothing to hide and little to say. The second was true…the first, in a sense. She'd never had much to hide. But no reasons to tell them, either.

"So you know Nott from the DA?" Sarah pounced.

"Well…no," Anne admitted. "No, I knew him before that."

__

And I joined because he suggested it, but I'll keep what secrets I can where Theo's concerned.

"Really," said Ellie. "Play the flute, does he?"

The other four giggled, and Anne struggled against a blush.

"The piano, actually," she replied with as much dignity as she could manage. Sarah leant back against a bedpost, folding her arms.

There was a pause. "Oh," said Gabby, sounding disappointed. "That's all? You know him because he does music as well?"

"That's _all_," Anne said quickly, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. "I bumped into him a few times around the practice rooms."

"And he actually stopped to _talk_ to you?" asked Mai, sounding amazed. "Why?"

"Boredom? Curiosity? I don't know." Anne did know, when she thought about it. The desire to distract himself from everything he didn't want to think of. "He's really not that bad."

"I'm sure you don't think so," Gabby smirked. "Not bad looking, is he?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," Anne lied through her teeth. "There are more important things than how someone looks."

__

Like how they look at you.

Like what Theo_ looks like when he's looking at you and thinks you haven't noticed._

Shut UP!

"Ah-_hah_," said Mai. "You _do_ like him. I knew it."

"Well of course she does," said Sarah, tilting her head thoughtfully. "The question is whether she's done anything about it."

"Well?"

Anne said rapidly, in a very small voice, "Yes he likes me and I _know _that I'm not stupid and I like him, yes, and he knows that and he knows I know he likes me and I know he knows I like him so we're all sorted out thank you very much and can we stop talking about this now?"

There was assorted snickering from out of her range of vision.

"So you and he -" That was Ellie, belabouring the point.

"_Yes_," said Anne, still blushing. "It's not really any of your business."

__

That had been a mistake, she knew as soon as it came out.

"Anne," said Mai soothingly "of _course_ it's our business. Especially if your boyfriend is in Slytherin."

"Some of us don't like our lives to be fodder for everyone's gossip," Anne said. "Okay? Yes, I'm friends with Theodore Nott, and yes, we - anyway, the thing is, I never mentioned it because he couldn't. He's not a Death Eater and he's not evil, he's just not -" _-a gossip-mongering extroverted Hufflepuff, oh, I wish I could say _that "- a very public person. And his family wouldn't have been very happy if - if they'd known he was even talking to a Muggle-born. That's all there is to it."

Sarah made as if to speak, frowning, then sighed. "We should really go to bed now, guys. It's classes tomorrow."

"Oh, stop being such a _Prefect_," Gabby muttered.

"She's right, though." Ellie shrugged. She gave Anne a beady stare. "But you still haven't explained why."

"Why what?"

"Why _anything_. Nott's cranky and arrogant and Slytherin. And you're so quiet and nice. Why do you like him at all?"

Anne busied herself with finding her pyjamas. "Because - he's not really - well, yes, he is like that, but you can't judge people on one train ride." _As well ask why a sensible boy like Chris goes out with Gabby who talks a hundred words a minute and could get a job as a gossip columnist._

"I'd be asking why he likes Anne," Mai said through her pyjama top. "You're too sweet for him."

"_Sweet_?" choked Anne.

"But you _are_," protested Sarah.

Anne shook her head. _No. Nicola is sweet. Some of the first-years are sweet. I'm shy and quiet. There's a difference. _"I am not sweet. I get on with Theo because we're similar, not because we're different."  
_Well. We are, but not as much as I thought_.

"You're not like him at all!" said Ellie indignantly.

Anne pulled back the sheets. "I'm introverted and I like my space and I love music and I like to think. I'm very much like him, in some ways."

Sarah leaned over to blow out her candle. "Good _night_, everyone."

Anne shot her a quick smile of gratitude as she settled into bed. "'Night."

__

Yeah, this is going to be fun.

I knew there was a reason I never told them about this.

* * *

"I think I'm getting _ideals_," Theo told Anne one evening in the library. She was feeling very exposed sitting across a table from her for anyone walking by to see, but then, she'd spent the whole week feeling like that. The concept of being able to address Theo in public was so new and strange that they barely had spoken, just exchanged hurried glances and smiles in the corridors. Then again, that might be more to do with their workloads; Anne was feeling the pressure every bit as much as she had last year, and even after one week Theo had declared that he should have "done a Weasley".

Anne raised an eyebrow. "Ideals? Oh dear. That does sound dangerous. Have you seen Madam Pomfrey?"

Theo's lips quirked. "No. I don't have ideals. That's the problem. I've been expecting other people to have them and it's very worrying."

"You know lots of idealistic people - "

"Would you say Draco Malfoy is one of them?"

"Nobody said ideals had to be sweetness and light. Hitler had ideals. Lots of them."

"He was the Muggle version of Grindlewald, wasn't he?"

Anne blinked. "I'm impressed. How did you know that?"

"Terry mentioned it. She was off on rant about your grandparents, or something. I lost her once she started talking about some Muggle war in the forties."

"That would be World War II." Anne grinned. Some war in the forties. Oh dear. "Only the biggest war anywhere, ever."

"Yes, well, Muggle history." Theo waved it away with a flick of his hand. "Muggle history is wars."

"Human history is wars. I read somewhere about how there's only fifty years in the last five thousand there hasn't been a war recorded somewhere. We define ourselves by wars."

"Yes, but wizarding wars aren't with other humans."

Anne just looked at him until he relented.

"Okay, okay, they're _mostly_ not with other wizards. They're with other beings. History of Magic, and all that. Muggle wars are just about power."

Anne rolled her eyes. "Wars are about power. Period. No matter who's fighting them. If they weren't about power, there wouldn't be a war. Even the religious ones are about power really." She crossed out the last sentence she'd written. Professor Sinistra probably didn't want a moral essay in the middle of Europa. Talking and writing had never been a good idea.

"Religi- I don't want to know." Theo paused. "Ideals _are_ stupid."

"Which is where this conversation began." Anne dipped her quill in the inkpot. "So who have you been weighing and finding wanting, then?"

There was a short silence, and she looked up. Theo was staring moodily at the bookshelf across from him, arms propped on the desk. "My dormmates."

"Ah." Anne frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know!" Theo snapped. "I found myself trying to tell them they were wrong being Death Eaters, which is true, but it's stupid bothering, because I know they're not going to listen. Three of them probably have orders to kill me and the other one will hold their cloaks while they do it and there am I trying to give them a big moral lecture about how the Dark Lord's just using them. It was true, but why bother?"

"Well, they're your dormmates. You know them pretty well. I'd try to talk my dormmates out of doing something stupid."

"Your dormmates aren't as stupid as mine - well, they're stupid about different things."

Anne's head jerked up. "I'm sorry?"

Theo shrugged. "You know what I mean."

"Really." Her quill point nearly went through the parchment. "I should tell them you said that."

"You won't," Theo said absently. "They're probably already on at you about your evil Slytherin boyfriend. I've been blackened enough in their eyes as it is."

Anne settled for muttering under her breath. Drat Theo. Her friends weren't stupid. But he was right, she wouldn't tell them. She was on the back foot enough about him as it was.

"Don't you have some Transfiguration research to do?" she asked him coolly, concentrating on her writing.

The pages of a book rustled.

"I suppose I do," Theo said. "Anne?"

"Yes?" She didn't look up.

"Sorry."

That did grab her attention. "What?"

"You heard me," Theo said stiffly, taking his turn at table-top examination.

"You're -" Anne stopped, hearing the echo of herself, eighteen months and a lifetime ago.

__

You're only saying that so I'll play the music.

Yes, I am, aren't I?

She sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

"No idea whatsoever." He looked up and smiled. "Well, maybe one or two-"

Anne batted at him, but he was quick enough to catch her hand. They stayed that way in comfortable silence for a few seconds until Anne remembered that they were in the library and, unfortunately, she had an essay to finish.

"We should work," she said reluctantly.

"We should," Theo agreed after a moment, and let her hand go. "So much to do, so little time."

"It feels like a long time."

"It feels like not enough." Theo paused. "But then, I suppose, there's never been enough."

* * *

"Theo," Anne told him just before she left, "you know you do have ideals."

"No I don't. I strenuously avoid them. Ideals get you into trouble." He looked her in the eye soberly. "I know, all right? My family has ideals. They're dangerous."

"Why?"

"They make you say things. They make you try to make other people believe them, too, and then other people get upset, and it all goes to custard. I refuse to have ideals."

"What do you have, then?"

"Hopes."

"Same thing." Anne squinted at her parchment. Her spread hand was a fairly reliable eight inches, and by that she was still an inch short. She'd have to finish it in bed, or before breakfast tomorrow.

"Not the same thing at all." Theo was stacking his textbooks.

"What are they, then?"

"What are what?"

"Your hopes." Anne pushed her chair in, bending to check under the table for scraps of parchment. Madam Pince was a stickler about rubbish.

Theo paused. "That we'll survive to the end of the year, the Dark Lord will die painfully, and this stupid war will be over. That I won't have to watch my back every moment of the day. That sort of thing. "

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Of course." Theo shrugged. "None of them are going to murder me in the Library, for goodness' sake."

But he looked over his shoulder as he said it, and Anne knew that it wasn't all right.

__

This year's different.

Let it not be fatally.


	10. Allegro, ma non tanto

****

Chapter Ten - Allegro, ma non tante

The first DA meetings of the year were a shock. Anne hadn't realised it was possible for a group of teenagers to look so grim, or so determined. The missing faces were the greatest catalyst. Last year's seventh years had moved on, of course, but there was one person who should have been there, and wasn't. And one who would not have been there - and could not be, now she was dead. Dean Thomas, Katie Bell. Their absences were a gaping hole.

The first meeting had devolved not into a real practice but into a sort of wake for the pair. Harry Potter had just let it run that way, not hauling them back on track as he usually did when things wandered into discussion. (Several memorable grumbling sessions about Umbridge last year had been cut ruthlessly short.) They had just sat on the cushions as people told stories, like Katie's grim drive as captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, or Dean Thomas' artwork. Seamus Finnigan told a very funny story about going with Dean to a football match. Anne had known neither of the pair well. Dean Thomas had been a year older, a boy, and in another House; she'd seem him only at DA meetings. Katie Bell, too, she'd seen only here or the few times she'd watched Quidditch matches. They hadn't been friends, but they had been…comrades, maybe, even if it sounded odd. Theo had grumbled afterwards that it had been "a waste of time", but Anne knew he didn't mean it.

There had been a definite shift in attitude towards Theo, as well. Of course, he was still a nasty Slytherin, but people like Zacharias Smith who had spent the past year making dark insinuations about why he was really there had been left stumped. Theo hadn't told anyone the details. Neither had Anne. Terry probably hadn't, although no-one had told her _not_ to and Terry firmly believed in the importance of openness and honesty with the general public. (Anne thought she should be a reporter.) But despite everything, everybody knew that Theodore Nott had run away from home, rather than become a Death Eater, that his fellow Slytherins were on the warpath, and that, who'd have thought it, he might be all right after all.

Naturally, this translated into a desire for details. Theo used ambiguity like a sword, neatly parrying every inquiry. Even Lavender Brown tired of it after countless murmured repetitions of "Did they really say that?", "Rumour exaggerates", and "I see." It was just in time, too. Anne could sense irritation rolling off Theo in waves, and it was only matter of time before he left off defending and went on the attack. She was honestly surprised he hadn't.

Theo's stubborn silence meant that the line of attack was shifted, and the next logical target was Anne herself. She avoided people at the DA by being herself. In a room full of loud, enthusiastic students with an excuse to throw hexes at each other, one quiet Hufflepuff could be ignored with ease. As long as she slipped off quickly at the end, there was little chance for her to be cornered. The only time she had to resort to Theo's tactics was in Charms.

"Do _you_ know why Theodore Nott decided he wasn't going to be a Death Eater?" Ginny Weasley asked her from the next table. Anne had been listening to the Gryffindors' conversation with a growing wish to move seats. The Gryffindor girl didn't _mean_ harm, but that didn't mean Anne wanted to answer her.

"I think you'd have to talk to him about that," Anne said diplomatically. "It wasn't very much to do with me."

"It wasn't?" Ginny looked surprised. "Most people would have said so."

"People say a lot of things," Anne said, shrugging. "Sometimes events are just what they seem to be."

"Ah, but that's so boring." Ginny grinned. "Nott having a change of heart doesn't make a good story. Nott deciding he won't be a Death Eater because he's fallen in love with a Muggle-born, that's what people want to hear."

Anne felt Ellie, next to her, swiveling around at those words, and did the only thing possible. She smiled wryly. "That would be a good story, if it was true." _Which it isn't…not like that, not really._

Ginny regarded her with some amusement.

"I thought you two -"

"Well, yes," Anne admitted, clearing her throat, "but for goodness' sake…" She met Ginny's eyes. "That muddles cause and effect up entirely. Theodore Nott had no intention of being a Death Eater long before he ever knew I existed, or he wouldn't have known I existed. And I'd really better get on with my work."

Thankfully, Ginny just gave a shrug, and a small smile. "Oh, I know all about rumours. Some stories seem to write themselves."

There was a strangled yelp from Ellie, and Anne shielded her eyes as smoke rose from the desk in front of them.

"Oops," Ellie said weakly. The teaspoon she had been trying to make dance was a twisted, blackened hoop.

"Miss Johnston!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. "There is really no need to _force_ the spell. Take your time…"

Anne bit her lip, trying not to smile. _Thank you, Ellie, for diversions_.

She was still trying not to giggle. Theo…her mind shied away from using the words Theo and love in the same sentence, but avoid that little problem, and the whole idea was truly ridiculous. Anne didn't know where to begin defining the complex mix of emotions, responsibilities, and conscience that had led Theo to where he now was. She suspected Theo didn't, either, and that was half the problem. Ideology was a source of comfort when you made hard decisions. Theo lacked ideology, lacked romantic motives, and lacked - well, lacked enough ego to override his feelings for his family. What he was left with was a mix of horror, stubborn self-interest, rebelliousness, and a nebulous feeling that he was doing the right thing. Plus whatever she was. But Ginny's summation was over-simplified.

__

Theo did what he did for himself, not for me. For far more reasons than one. Maybe all stories are like that. Forgetting all the other reasons people did things, and choosing the most interesting.

Anne just hoped that Theo's myriad reasons _were _enough to pull him through the consequences. Because she, by herself, would not be. _I've never been able to make it better for Theo. I've just been able to help him make it better for himself._

I hope he can still do that. Otherwise…

…otherwise, was his choice even worth it?

Anne wasn't sure.

* * *

Seventh year was different from the others, Theo reflected. Apart from the obvious changes (being cut off from his family, etcetera) classes were markedly smaller and harder than previous years. Teachers thundered about NEWTs and their importance to the rest of your life. They also gave you more homework than was humanly possible to do. Five subjects more than filled up the work of the ten of third year (had that even been possible? Ten subjects?) The few insane people like Granger or Goldstein who were taking six definitely needed their heads examined.

The hardest change was knowing who to talk to in class. That had hit him like a brick when he'd walked into History of Magic, the first day back, and sat down next to Daphne Greengrass (the only other Slytherin in the class.) Looking back, he hadn't been thinking; it was six years of instinct, in which Slytherins the same as you people you are supposed to be around people you stick around with. Daphne hadn't even said anything. She'd just got up and walked across the classroom to another seat.

Oh, yes, they were all seventeen and mature now (they must be, in this war, you couldn't not be) and Theo was above that sort of childish behaviour, Daphne had never been a real friend or anything, he didn't _care_, but it hurt. Theo thought of himself as a very independent person, but that didn't mean he wanted to be an outcast. Anne was all right - she could still be seen hovering around her friends, not as involved as they were, but…in the right place. Theo had no right place anymore. Maybe it had never been his place, maybe he'd just been pretending. Whichever it was, on top of the mess that was the rest of his life at the moment - Theo, for the first time since he'd run into Anne, was…well, lonely.

He told her that one Saturday in late September. Being able to say hello in the corridors was all well and good, but time by themselves was to be treasured. And music. Always music.

"How are your classes going?" Anne asked as she wrestled with her flute. She was trying to disassemble it, but it wasn't being very co-operative. "Argh. Stupid thing. I knew I should have greased it earlier. No one's tried to murder you in your sleep yet?"

"They're not talking to me," Theo said flatly. "None of them are talking to me." He shut his music folder with more force than he'd intended.

Anne laid the flute on the table, shaking out her wrists. "It's a problem?"

"What do you think?" Theo snapped.

She shrugged, picking the flute up again. "I wasn't sure, to be honest. You - I'm assuming "they" are your fellow Slytherins, well, I've never got the impression that you were very close to any of them. So I don't know if it would matter. But it does."

Theo leaned forward on his elbows. "Just…imagine this. Everyone in your year, in your House, is not talking to you. They talk about you, they do their damndest to make your life difficult, they whisper and stare, but they don't talk to you. They won't sit next to you in class. They won't sit next to you at meals. They pretty much won't acknowledge your existence. About three other people in your House will, but they're all first-years or almost as ostracised themselves. Everybody in other Houses doesn't know what to say, because the rules have all changed. That would be a summary of my life at the moment. So, actually, living hell would be the closest approximation. Does that answer your question?"

"Ah!" Anne held up the parts of her flute in triumph.

"Are you even _listening_?"

She packed them away carefully in their case before she answered. Theo watched the brisk, precise movements of her hands; she must have done that hundreds, thousands of times by now. He remembered reading somewhere, sometime, that the name Anne meant "graceful"; Anne herself was not an extraordinarily graceful person, just a short fair-haired girl, but it was there when she played music, there when she held her flute. Theo loved that about music. It lent you a dignity and beauty that you, yourself, could never hope to achieve.

It was something of a surprise when Anne told him to move over, so she could sit down on the piano stool.

"There's not much I can do, is there," she said in matter-of-fact tones. No - glum was more like it. "And it's the worst thing they could do, isn't it?"

"The worst thing?" Theo blinked. "There are lots of worse things they can do. It's not fun, but at least they're staying off my back. I can be grateful for that."

"You shouldn't have to be grateful for being ignored! Or no - that's not right. Being ignored is what we do. We do it very well, I think." She leaned back against the piano, staring at nothing. "I don't know. Is it a good thing?"

"Don't ask me that. But there is a difference, you're right. A very significant one."

"Isn't there just. If everyone in my year actually wouldn't speak to me - Theo, how do you cope?"

Theo considered it, for a moment. "I don't think I am coping with it very well."

"Oh." Anne shook her head. "You could - have you written to your aunt and uncle, yet? I mean the O'Neills."

Theo tried to remember. "Er…no. No, I haven't. I should, shouldn't I?"

"I think it would be polite. And…maybe…you wrote to your dad, didn't you? I know it's not the same," she added quickly, "but at least it's connection, or, or something. It's a start."

Having someone outside of Hogwarts' closed world again - yes, that would be a start. More than a start.

"I'll do that, then."

"Good." She paused. "You could try talking to people, as well."

"I talk to lots of people!"

Anne snorted. "Theo, nobody is going to accuse either of us of being extroverts, but I can count on one hand the people you have regular conversations with. Me. Terry. Who else?"

"Well, I talk to people in the DA, and, and the teachers, and I've talked to your friends once or twice, and I talk to people in my House - okay, no I don't anymore, but - I do talk."

Maybe if he just put his arm around her, and maybe they wouldn't have to keep talking about -

Anne allowed the arm, but gave him a warning look. "This is a conversation."

"I know _that_."

"Keep it in mind. Theo, can I suggest something?"

"Would you stop if I said no?"

She smiled in acknowledgement. "Nobody in your House will sit next to you, but have you tried sitting with, I don't know, some of the DA?"

"Why would I do that?" Theo said, utterly confused.

"Because you just said you hate your life because you're by yourself in class. People like Ernie Macmillan or Terry Boot aren't going to send you packing."

"I don't have any classes with Terry Boot," Theo objected.

"It was a hypothetical example. Anyway. Try it. It can't make things worse."

"But they…I…" Theo struggled to articulate the obvious, instinctual objections. "They're not in my House."

Anne gave him a very…objective look. "You're such a pure-blood sometimes, do you know that?"

"That has nothing to do with -"

"It has everything to do with it. I don't mean about the war and all that, I mean about how you think. Maybe pure-blood isn't the right word. You just think like someone who was brought up in the wizarding world."

"Because, just possibly, I was?"

"It's just interesting, that's all. So, will you give it a go."

Theo hedged. "Maybe."

Anne evidently decided that she'd have to settle for maybe. Which she would. "All right, then."

"Besides," Theo added, "you'll still be talking to me, won't you?"

"As long as you're still talking to _me_," Anne joked. "A considerably more worrying thought."

"Don't be ridiculous," Theo said scathingly. "Why would I do that?"

"You never know." It would have been worrying if she hadn't been smiling. And, Theo supposed, she was a much nicer person than him.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire, first," he told her, and immediately remembered the rest of the verse.

"You and your Shakespeare." Anne rolled her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Find it for yourself," Theo hedged quickly. "Think of it as educational."

"You're not even going to tell me which play?"

"Hamlet." Which was the longest, and hopefully she'd forget and not look. Hopefully.

"Fine, then." She shook her head. "I never should have told you about Shakespeare, you know."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

__

As I should well know.

* * *

Theo had Charms the next day, with the very people he'd been talking to Anne about. It was a long way from the History of Magic classroom to Charms, and most of the class was there by the time he arrived. He began to walk over to an empty seat, away from anyone else. Away from the Slytherins. Then he hesitated.

Maybe…he had nothing to lose, did he?

There was an empty seat next to Justin Finch-Fletchley. The rest of the Hufflepuffs were already there, so it wasn't as if he'd be taking someone else's place. Theo decided not to bother with asking. It was an invitation to be rejected.

"Morning," he said, setting his bag down beside the desk. "You got here quickly."

Finch-Fletchley started. "Oh. Oh, Nott. We, uh, we took the shortcut up past the Muggle Studies classroom. It's a lot quicker."

"I wouldn't know, I've never really been in that part of Hogwarts." Theo pulled his Charms books out of his bag.

"Are we up to page sixty-four or sixty-five?" asked Megan Jones, in the seat ahead. "I can't remember."

"The Professor said we were skipping ahead to seventy and coming back to those other charms later," Macmillan offered. "Do you remember, Nott?"

It was Theo's turn to start. "Yes. Yes, he did."

"What brings you to this part of the world, then?" Macmillan inquired jovially. It was a joke. At least, Theo thought so.

"A change is as good as a holiday," Theo said ambiguously.

"And none of your own House talking to you." Susan Bones sniffed. "It's ridiculous."

Theo paused. "You noticed?"

"Of course we did. It shouldn't be allowed."

"Don't start saying that. Sounds like something Umbridge would say." Finch-Fletchley shivered theatrically. "Last thing we need is someone like her back."

"You can say that again," muttered Theo.

"The Professor's here," called Macmillan, and Flitwick's voice piped up from the back of the class. "Books out already? Very good. No, Mr. Malfoy, you won't be needing your wand for the first part of the lesson. Page seventy, please, everyone."

Theo rolled his eyes - theoretical Charms was never half the fun of practical - and caught Bones with exactly the same expression.

Maybe…just possibly, not making any judgements yet…Anne could have a point.

* * *

"Theodore Nott was looking for you, earlier," Ellie informed Anne as she sat down at one of the common room tables. She'd been on the point of starting her homework before remembering she'd left her Arithmancy textbook in the dormitory. "He asked us where you were just before dinner."

"Did he say why?" Anne asked.

"No, just wanted to know where you'd be after dinner." Ellie flipped a page.

"Did you tell him I was coming back here to do my homework?" Anne paused on the point of getting a quill out of her bag. She could always go and find Theo in the library - he did most of his homework there, nowadays, claiming the Slytherin common room was too uncomfortable - but then they'd talk, and she wouldn't get as much work done, and -

"Aren't you going to the library?" Ellie frowned. "Sarah said you were."

"I wasn't planning on it, but if Theo thinks I'm going to be - why would Sarah say that? I was telling her at lunch that I was going to have a solid homework night."

Ellie shrugged uncomfortably. "I think…I know. She knew that."

"Then why -"

"Look, Anne…" Ellie twisted the corner of the page with her fingers, lowering her voice. "Your friends are your choice, and I don't mind. I won't say I like it, but I'll live with it."

"You think Sarah won't." It wasn't a question, though Anne wished it were.

"I think…" Ellie noticed what she was doing, and tried to smooth the crumpled page. "Gabby just sees gossip; Mai thinks it's your funeral; Sarah thinks you don't know what you're doing. She's going all Prefect on us."

"But there's no reason for her to do that."

"Plenty of reason." Ellie smiled tightly. "She thinks we all need mothering, she thinks you're doing something daft, she had a crush on Gerald Cameron last year, and he was in Slytherin. Sarah holds grudges."

"Sarah wouldn't do that," Anne said in disbelief. "What does she think - Theo and I will never speak to each other again because he went to the library and I didn't turn up? Or was that just an opening salvo?"

"I don't know." Ellie seemed to hunch over her books. "It's not important, really. I'm probably letting my imagination run overtime. We need to work."

Anne stood up. "I'm going to the library."

Ellie looked up in confusion. "But you just said -"

"If Theo wants to speak to me, I'd quite like to know why." Anne paused, shifting the books in her arm. "If the others show up…never mind."

Ellie sighed. "Why do you have to do this?"

"I'm not - it's not anything - why is it - oh, there's no point. I'll be back later. See you."

"See you," Ellie agreed, but her expression was troubled.

Anne nearly walked into Sarah and Gabby as she left the common room. Gabby said hi in her normal tones, but Sarah looked surprised.

"Anne, I thought you were staying in here tonight."

"Well, I was going to, but I need to look up something in the library." Anne shrugged. "You know how it is. Do you want to come?"

"Er…no, no, I think I'll get more work done in here," Sarah said. She frowned. "I'll see you later, then."

"Sure," Anne agreed, and walked on. No point in feeling guilty. If Sarah realised she was labouring in vain, she'd give up.

She had to.

* * *

By the time she'd got to the library, she'd worked herself into quite a temper over Sarah's machinations. Perhaps she was misconstruing the whole thing, or Ellie was, but it fitted exactly into Sarah's personality. She probably thought it was all for Anne's own good, too. Or maybe - there was no point to getting worked up about it. There wasn't, but that didn't cut any ice with the little voice in Anne's head which was busy listing things to say to Sarah when she got a chance.

Theo looked up when she found him. It wasn't as if slamming her books down on the table was a move designed to avoid attention, after all.

"Your friend said you were coming here after dinner. Are - what's wrong?"

Anne pulled out a chair and sat down. She was not glowering. She didn't have any reason to be mad at Theo -

She sighed, and put her head in her hands. "You were misinformed. I told her I was going to the common room after dinner. What I'm trying to work out is _why_ you were misinformed."

Theo blinked. "Why are you here, then?"

"So you can help me work out why Sarah would tell you I was going to be here if she knew I wasn't."

Theo gave her a look that strongly suggested she calm down. "Because she made a mistake?"

"You're the Slytherin. I would like that interpretation to be true, but it isn't."

"In terms of trying to create a disagreement, that's a pretty stupid way to go about it. It doesn't make sense."

Anne began to lay her books out. She might as well pretend to get some work done. "It doesn't…wait. No, it doesn't, but it doesn't have to."

"Neither does that," Theo pointed out dryly.

"I mean it only has to make sense to Sarah, not to us. And from Sarah's point of view, it does make sense."

"Good for her. It still doesn't seem worth worrying about."

"It is for me. It's…not usual." Anne gestured, unable to find the right words. "I'm not used to people doing things like that."

Theo shrugged. "You wouldn't have liked Slytherin much, then. Half the House are always at some sort of power game. This doesn't compare."

"No, you see…" Theo didn't have her advantage of knowing Sarah, but surely he could grasp the logic "Sarah likes to look after us, and if she's decided that me knowing you is bad for me, she'll try to do something. Hufflepuff loyalties, you know." Anne tried to modulate the bitterness in her voice. "She's…Sarah gets very possessive, and, well, paranoid, really. If her boyfriend wasn't where she'd been told he would be, it _would_ start a fight. That's why. I just wish she wouldn't try to decide what's best for us all the time."

Theo nodded, slowly. "But if you know, you can avoid it."

"I don't want to have to. And I don't want to have it out with her, either, because…oh, I probably am making mountains out of molehills. It's not worth it."

"You know best about your friends. I won't even pretend to understand them," Theo said dryly.

"I won't, either," Anne told him. She didn't feel _better_, precisely, but at least she knew where she stood. "Why were you asking about me, anyway?"

"Oh, yes, I forgot. I…never mind, you probably need to finish your homework. So do I, come to that." He waved vaguely at her books.

"I do, but what was it?"

Theo looked abashed. "I'm trying - I'm trying to write a letter to the O'Neills, but…I have no idea where to start. I thought you could help."

"You're good at writing letters."

"Not this sort." He smiled wryly. "I can write to you, and I can…construct letters to my father. I could, anyway. But I was always trying to - to say what I needed to be seen to be saying. I've forgotten how to write when I'm just, you know, writing."

"Um…say hello. Ask them how they are. Ask after your cousins. Tell them about school. Tell them about the DA. You know, just normal things."

Theo frowned. "Do you think they'll even want to hear about…those sort of things?"

"They asked you to write, didn't they?"

"Yes, but…"

Anne wasn't sure whether Theo meant that, or whether he just didn't _want_ to write letters. She doubted it was because he hadn't liked the O'Neills. He'd spoken of his time there with some enthusiasm. "But?"  
He shrugged. "Never mind, then. It wasn't really that important."

"If you say so," Anne agreed. She had no idea where to go from here, so there was no point continuing. But she still thought he should _try_.

Clearly she'd been unfair, because when she looked up half an hour later Theo was staring at a half-covered piece of parchment. He was absorbed enough to be ignoring entirely the very loud group of second-years at the next table. Not that they were going to get away with that for much longer - Anne could see Madam Pince striding towards them, looking even more testy than usual.

"What are you writing?" Anne asked.

"Letter," Theo said briefly, attention still on the parchment. "Do you think that's long enough?"

"Is there anything else you want to say?"

"Not really. I'm not sure. I don't know…how much is right to say, I suppose."

__

Because, Anne realised suddenly, _you would really like these relatives, but they're a skeleton in the closet, so you're not sure, and you're not sure if they want you as a nephew, and walking away from your family is bad enough without feeling like you're replacing them…_

"Just send it," Anne said. "What's the worst that can happen?"

"Death Eaters find the letter and go and murder them," Theo said gloomily.

Anne paused. "Oh. Yes."

"And I can't do very much about that. Because there are spells for warding letters, but I don't know them. Or - we're in a library."

Anne bit back a smile. "Yes, I do believe we are."

"Excuse me, I'll be right back." Theo pushed back his chair and stood, looking much happier.

"Right back" turned out to mean Theo reappearing ten minutes later with a heavy book bound in red leather and quantities of dust.

"Is that what you were looking for?"

"I think so." Theo put it down carefully, and shook out his wrists. "I'll say this for your Muggle books, they don't break your arms."

"The equivalents to that sort of thing probably do. What is it?"

"Warding spells," Theo said happily. "Lots of them. There's a whole cache of them down the far left corner, Macmillan pointed it out to me."

"Good," Anne murmured. Ernie Macmillan? And Theo hadn't been looking quite so harassed tonight…maybe he'd listened. "Oh, no!"

"Hm?" Theo looked up sharply.

"Time," she said, scrabbling her things together. "It was curfew five minutes ago. See you Saturday?"

"Or around," Theo agreed. "Anne - take care."

"And you," Anne said wryly.

"Literally." He lowered his voice. "Blaise and Daphne - Slytherins - they're sitting near the door. They've been shooting me some nasty looks. Are you sure you don't want me to, uh, walk you back, or, or something?"

Anne stole a nervous glance over her shoulder. There they were, by the door, and -

"No. No, I'll be fine. Anyway," she smiled, "I couldn't possibly let you know where our common room is."

Theo rolled his eyes. "Down past the kitchens behind the forest and lake tapestry, I know."

"How -"

He just smirked.

Anne shook her head. "Huh. We'll have to move, then. Seriously - what are they going to do?"

"Nothing. Nothing," Theo said, too rapidly. "Just…never mind. See you."

"See you," Anne said, remembered curfew, and took to her heels. She only got the briefest of glances at the two Slytherins by the door as she passed them, but they were certainly looking at her. In a distinctly…assessing way.

She ran faster.

* * *

****

A/N: I know, I know. What was the rest of the verse from Hamlet?

Answer: Act 2, Scene 2, go educate yourselves. :P

Also: Some of you may have noticed that I have removed A Broken Wand. This is because I wrote it a long time ago, before I had any idea about where Theo and Anne's story was going to take me; as a result, it became incompatible with Disavowals. I like the future chapters of Disavowals more than ABW, so it went. Sorry. Today is a Gift is still canonical, as it were, for the "Dis" stories. Maybe I'll even get Mira to finish it one day.


	11. Con Anima

**A/N: **Exams did indeed swamp me, but I only have three left so we will be returning to our regular scheduling. I wish it to be noted that I _tried_ to post this chapter on Sunday, but this dratted site chose that time to go down. So it would have been earlier. Just so you know. :P

**Chapter Eleven - Con Anima**

Breakfast was always an excellent way to spoil any good moods Theo found himself in when he woke up - or it was these days - so he'd taken to skipping it, if he wasn't particularly hungry, or going in early or late if he was. Sometimes he threw longing glances at the other House tables, wishing he could join people who, well, wouldn't look at him like he'd crawled out of a swamp. At least, some of them wouldn't. He had to endure his Housemates' disdain at other mealtimes, of course, but first thing in the morning was particularly bad. He did have to be there for the post owls if he was expecting anything, though, in which case he sat near the sixth-years. They didn't talk to him (apart from "pass the jam") but they didn't try to hex his food, either. It was an improvement.

Expecting a letter back from the O'Neills kept Theo at breakfast on time for a week, which was not much fun. The payoff came on Wednesday morning when he received a chatty letter from Monique, with comments from Callum. It told him that everything was fine (at which he let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding). Catriona was back at work, apparently the heroine of the office for her escape - not undeservedly, Theo thought. Callum had apparently borrowed the quill for long enough to regale Theo with a tale of what the Hufflepuff Quidditch team reserves had done to the Slytherins after a victory, by way, Theo assumed, of making him feel better. It did spark indignant House pride, but also amusement. The letter finished with an admonition to "send us another owl sometime soon, just so we know you're all right", and a post-script informing him that "Jan says to say she's trying banana this week, and it looks much better. Whatever that means." Theo couldn't help laughing at that. Which prompted Draco to make a snide comment, which somewhat soured the morning, but not enough to be worth bothering about. That day in Charms, too, the Hufflepuffs greeted him cheerfully when he sat down next to them again. He still felt out of place, but at least he wasn't sitting by himself at the back of the classroom like some sort of pariah.

Feeling much better about life, Theo slept in on Friday morning - no helpful dormmates waking him up, even by throwing things at him - so it was a scramble to get breakfast before first period. When an owl landed in front of him, he just grabbed the letter, shoved it in his pockets, and ran straight to Defence Against the Dark Arts. He didn't get a chance to open it until after dinner. For once, he was in the common room. He'd discovered that if he sat in the corner furthest away from the fireplace, he was safe from interference.

He was about to open the required reading for History of Magic when he remembered the letter. It was crumpled, when he pulled it out of his pockets. Looking closer, he could see it was old; the ink was faded. There was no seal on the back, and he did not recognise the handwriting. In a plain, slanting hand, it read _Theodore Nott, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain. _Theo hefted the envelope; there was something inside apart from the letter. Very curious, now, he opened it.

It was addressed from his own home, and his heart leapt for a moment. Then he saw the date: the twenty-third of October, nineteen eight-two. A year after the Dark Lord's downfall; a month and a half after his second birthday…

…two weeks before his mother had died.

It was obvious, when he thought about it.

_Dear Theodore,_

_I don't even know if you're calling yourself that anymore. The only people who called me Adrienne when I was your age were my parents. (Come to that, they are still the only people who call me Adrienne.) You will doubtless be as rebellious as I was at seventeen; maybe as much as your Aunt Monique - although I hope not.) Perhaps you're a Teddy - on second thoughts, I don't think so! Perhaps you're a Theo. Yes, I can see that. Perhaps you're still a Theodore, but that I doubt. Two syllables seems to be the most teenagers can manage when it comes to names. _

_I can see you playing on the floor beside my bed. You're concentrating very hard on making a tower with your blocks, as high as it can go. Maybe that means you'll be a Slytherin like your father. Or maybe I am reading too much into nothing, as your aunt Karena tells me I do far too often. Forgive me; it's just that in these last few days I have been racking my brains, trying to decide what you will become. Since as you know (how could you not?) I will not have the privilege of any other mother, of seeing you grow. And so we come to the reason I'm writing this letter at all. _

_I have been luckier than some. I have time to write this letter, time to give you something of my thoughts. You're probably wondering why you did not get this on your seventeenth birthday. That would be logical, and we Ravenclaws are logical, for the most part. The truth is I forgot. On September the ninth, I was concentrating too hard on making it your day, since it is the last birthday I will see. It was still as warm as summer then. It has been a good summer. Your father took me walking on the moors, for as long as I had the strength. I can look out the bedroom window now and see the clouds whipping across the sky. It is truly autumn now, my last autumn, as this spring and summer were my last. I didn't know, in the winter. Now I regret the way I wished that winter would end, never realising I would not see the snow again. Perhaps I'll be lucky, perhaps I'll hold out until the November snows fall this year. _

_But it is October, as I write this, and fifteen years is a good round number. So you are reading this on October the twenty-third, nineteen ninety-seven. That seems an impossibly long time in the future. Monique told me once of a Muggle book she read about the future, called 1984; 1984 must seem a long way in the past to you, but it is a future that I won't see. In fifteen years…I can't begin to imagine. _

_Indulge me in a flight of fantasy. As your father has told you, I am sure, I never had many of them, preferring to trust to the solid and real. Music doesn't count. Music is as real as these words. Eric has promised me you'll have the chance to know that truth, and I believe you will. _

_So, ignoring the fact that you're currently knocking over every tower of blocks you have built and asking for my approval of the feat, I can see you now. You are tall, like your father and I, and handsome (of course). You are still young, and your life is before you. You are probably sitting in your House common room, wishing you didn't have so much homework with your NEWTs coming up. You are writing to Eric, maybe, or to a friend, or flirting with some pretty girl. You are so very, very lucky. _

_I don't know what to tell you because I don't know what you know, and as an editor of books, I have no time for redundant information. I'm sure you don't either. So, in no particular order, here are a few things you probably don't know. _

1)I am (was) a book editor, mostly non-fiction. It makes far more sense, and I don't have much talent for the fictitious. When you were born, I worked at home. In the last year, you might remember, you would come and sit on my knee and try to help. I appreciated the thought.

_2)You were an adorably cute baby. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. _

_3)If you go up into the attic and open the third trunk from the right, you will find some old books and notes of mine from my Hogwarts days. My harp is next to them. They might help you with exams, if the courses haven't changed too much. Not all of them are there; I passed some on to my younger sister. _

_4)You won't know about her. Yes, I have a sister, Monique O'Neill. Her husband's mother was a Muggle. Their children are Janet, Liam, and Catriona. Your father never would have approved of you knowing them. I cannot say I liked my sister's decision, but you need to know about her, and about your cousins. Catriona is the youngest, and she is seven years older than you, so you will not know them from Hogwarts. Their address has almost certainly changed, but our old owl can find them, should you wish to make contact. I will leave that decision to you. _

_5)No matter what you hear about the war that has passed; your father made the right decision, and I supported him in it. Listen to your father. He only wants the best for you, as do I. _

_6)I'm sorry. I'm sorry I have to leave you before I ever got the chance to know you properly. Will it make it any better to tell you that I didn't want to? That should be obvious. I love you, Theodore. Very much indeed. _

_7)To thine own self be true. Monique told me that, once, long ago, when I fought with her. She was wrong, but wherever she got that, it was right. Whoever you are is who your father and I want you to be. Why can I say that? Because I know, with Eric there for you, you will be a son to be proud of. You already are. _

_Whatever happens now, I'm sure of one thing. I'll see you again, somewhere, sometime. But now I'd better go and stop you before you put dents in my walls by throwing blocks at them. Oops, you've already started. _

_With all my love, _

_Adrienne Nott (better known to you, now, as Mummy. I'm sure that will embarrass you.)_

_PS Enclosed is the key to my Gringotts vault, 643. Your father and I decided that the contents would be left for you, when you came of age. You will also find in there some odds and ends - boring legal documents, my NEWT and OWL certificates, that sort of thing - and some things that I did not wish to show your father (photographs, mainly, of Monique and your cousins.), or that we decided he would not want around the house (my writing desk.) Do whatever you want with them. _

She'd died on the sixth of November. That was too early for snow, every year that Theo could remember. Had his mother seen the snow fall? His first thought was, _I'll ask Dad_. That wasn't an option, of course. His father might not even know about this letter. Certainly not if it mentioned the O'Neills. Maybe Monique knew. He'd have to ask her.

Theo shook the vault key out into his palm. The gold metal caught the flickering candlelight. He almost fancied he could see a face in there, a pale woman with long brown hair. It was funny. Until this year he'd never bothered thinking much about his mother. The fact of her death, and his half-orphaning, was just a fact of his life; she was no more than a few pictures, and a name, and a certain look in his father's eyes. And a few hazy memories of music and a quill scratching on parchment. She'd been as black-and-white as the pictures. Now Adrienne Nott was almost painfully coloured in, scrap by scrap; aunt, daughter, sister, mother, wife. She had stopped being his father's private pain and Theo's vague regret and become a person in her own right, a woman who had come to Hogwarts, just as Theo had, visited Hogsmeade, cheered at Quidditch matches, sat in the library studying, sweated over exams, and left, and worked, and married, and died. When it had occurred to Theo to think about it, he had wondered why almost forty years of life had left so few traces behind. Apparently, they had been there all this time. He just hadn't looked.

It was ironic, he thought, dropping the key back into the envelope, that so much had been laid open for him _after_ he'd left home. If he'd still been able to write to his father, he could have asked so much. But he couldn't, and that was…an end.

_I can ask Monique, of course, but there's only so much she can tell me. Karena and Paul could have told me as much as Dad, but I can't ask them. Kenneth…if he'd lived, he'd remember her more. If he'd lived, I wouldn't be talking to him either. _

_Who knows. Maybe he would have agreed with me, not them. _

_No! I won't think like that, it isn't us and them, it is, but not my family, they're - _

_I don't know, anymore. I know what they think. I know what I think they think, at least. _

_So where were you, Mum? One of us, or one of them? _

Intellectually, Theo knew she'd been on his father's side, knew that she would have agreed with the Death Eaters. But she was dead, and the picture he'd built up had just enough pieces missing, enough in place - the photo of her with her nieces and nephew - the very fact she'd kept talking to her sister -

- just enough pieces for Theo to imagine her in limbo here with him, neither quite one thing nor the other. Maybe she'd been not against the Death Eaters, but just enough to know that Muggle-borns were…part of the wizarding world, not like everyone else was, but still standing in the right place, because they were part of the magic (and you could see, if you looked, how it tore them to be part of both worlds.) That Muggles could be people, even without magic. It was a silly dream. He might as well hope for his classmates to give up the fight and decide he was as Slytherin as they were. He might as well hope for his father back.

But it was a dream, and you could hold on to dreams. For just long enough.

Anne could have kicked herself for not making time to find Theo before the first Hogsmeade weekend. It wasn't as if she needed him to _ask_ her, or anything like that (even if it would be nice) but between sixth year and Sarah, she didn't manage to speak more than two words to him for almost a week, and suddenly it was Saturday and they were all trooping down. She couldn't spot Theo in the crowd, and Theo was noticeable, this year, so often alone, but she decided to go looking for him when they got to Hogsmeade.

If she could shake off the others, that was. Sarah seemed to have decided that the best way to make sure Anne was not corrupted by nasty Slytherins was to ensure that Anne had no time to see them. She was forever offering help with homework, or organising study groups, or laying down the law about curfew - she'd taken points off Anne for getting back from the library late, and _that_ was unheard of. It was getting to the point where Anne was resorting to very devious tactics to extricate herself. Ellie was surprisingly helpful in that regard, and Gabby could be easily diverted, allowing Anne to escape. Today Sarah had let up her guard, but only because one of the Ravenclaws had asked her to go with him. Ellie was walking with her boyfriend. Gabby was in the middle of one of her joined-at-the-hip periods with Chris, as opposed to their we're-sick-of-the-sight-of-each-other ones. That left only Mai to shake off, but Mai was surprisingly nervous out of the castle grounds, and Anne wasn't sure she could do it.

"Why do they think we need guards?" Mai said, eyeing the closest Auror nervously. "It's - of course the Death Eaters aren't going to attack us here, are they?"

"No, of course not?" Anne reassured her. "Besides, there's only four Aurors. If it was really dangerous, we wouldn't be allowed to go at all."

"Only four? That's not very many, if they do attack." Mai shrank closer towards the mass of people.

Her voice must have rung out, because one of the Aurors fell into step with them.

"You don't need to worry about anything, miss. We're just scenic. The Death Eaters have got bigger fish to fry." Anne recognised her with a start. It was one of the Aurors who had turned up on her street after the Death Eater. She'd been unable to recognise her for a moment - the long black hair was very different from spiky pink.

"Oh." Mai bit her lip. "Why are you here, then?"

"Just in case. Really, it's nothing to worry about."

"Are you, er, Sergeant Tonks, ma'am?" Anne spoke up. "I think you took a statement off me and my brother."

"That's right," Sergeant Tonks said cheerfully. "Anne Fairleigh, isn't it? Your brother was the one who gave Paul Amberley a black eye. Not too happy about that, he was. And you - hmm, yes."

"And she what?" Mai asked.

"Nothing important," Tonks said, shaking her head. "Though I just remembered - you lived near my cousins, didn't you, Miss Fairleigh?"

"Your cousins?" Anne frowned, scuffing aside some fallen leaves. "I - Tonks, oh, no. The Martins. That was Mrs. Martin's maiden name. You're not -"

"Yeah, that was my aunt and uncle." Tonks shrugged, but her head was bowed. "Apparently you were their kids' favourite babysitter. Little Andy talked about you a bit."

"Andromache?" Anne blinked in surprise. "How is she? I forgot to find out, and -"

"Fine, fine. Mum and Dad are enjoying having a kid around the house again. She asked for you a lot when she first came."

"I suppose she's forgotten us all now. She must be getting on for four."

"I think she'd remember if she saw you again," Tonks offered. "You should come and see her, sometime. It was a bit rough, losing all her family and having to move. I think a friendly face would make her very happy."

"I'd like that, if I get the chance." They were almost at Hogsmeade, now. "I miss them a lot."

"Me, too. I didn't see them as often as I wanted to, being an Auror, but - family's family, y'know. My Mum's aren't too keen on her, either."

"Why not?"

"Marrying a Muggle-born. Disgracing the family, and all that. Oops, I'd better get back on point, Kingsley's looking at me. I'll see you around."

"Sure, Sergeant." Anne nodded goodbye. Mai pulled her away as soon as the Auror was gone.

"Was she related to your neighbours? The ones who died?"

"Yeah." Anne sighed. "It seems like such a long time ago. Elise would have been a third-year. Do you remember them much, Mai?"

"Elise Martin?" Mai tilted her head curiously. "No, not much."

"Not just her. The ones who've died. All of them."

"I don't like thinking about it," Mai said. Her voice was flat. "It's too hard. They were - they - it's too close. Come on. Let's go look in Gladrags."

Anne saw her plans for finding Theo dissolving in smoke. "Only if we can look in the bookshop later -"

"Yes, but I need to get a scarf first. Come on, it'll only take a few minutes," Mai cajoled. She headed off towards the clothing store. Anne shook her head, and followed her.

She did manage to get rid of Mai, by dint of finding Theo. As mentally predicted, he was to be found in what passed for the music section of Hogsmeade's bookshop. Anne hadn't predicted that he would be talking, if somewhat uneasily, to Ernie Macmillan. Anne hovered in the door of the shop, not liking to interrupt.

"Are you going in or not?" Mai said from behind her. "I - oh. Never mind."

Anne turned around. "You don't have to -" she began, at the same time as Mai said, "I just remembered, I need to go and -"

They stared at each other for a second. Mai swallowed, twisting her hands around each other.

"I…I'll see you back at school, okay?" she faltered.

Anne couldn't help sighing.

"It's not - Anne, you know I don't -"

"It's all right," Anne said, then, more loudly, "it's okay. I wouldn't want you to go out of your way for me. I'll probably see you at dinner."

Mai's lips compressed. "Fine, then," she said stiffly, and left.

Anne paused, staring after her. _Mai_ had been the one who'd -

_Oh. I wasn't all that nice about it, was I? _

_I can't spend my whole life walking around other people's prejudices. _

_You spent a lot of time walking around _Theo'spart of her pointed out tartly.

_Theo tried. _

_Mai's trying_, the other voice said. _She's just scared. _

_No one was scared when it was a joke. They joked about it for _years_, because God knew there was no way _I'd_ turn up with a boyfriend, let alone a Slytherin one. Then I do, and Mai's scared, Ellie silently disapproves, Sarah_'s _attempting sabotage, and Gabby pries. I thought they liked me_.

_Never do what people don't expect_, another voice said. It sounded much like Theo. _It upsets them. _

"Are you going to stand there all day, miss, or are you coming in?" said the shopkeeper tartly. Anne jumped, and stepped inside. Several people had passed her while she'd been thinking.

"I'm sorry, I was - um, sorry." She worked her way through a group of third-years to where Theo and Ernie had been standing, only to find that Ernie had moved on and Theo was frowning at her.

"What was that all about?"

"I thought I knew best about my friends," Anne said tartly, and regretted it the moment she'd said it. "Look - sorry. People are being a bit, well…human. I suppose. It's getting to me."

Theo raised his eyebrows. "People being human. Imagine that."

"You know what I mean."

"Being human probably covers most of the world's problems, I know. It would be so much easier if they were all saintly."

"Much more boring, though." Anne smiled.

"Much," Theo agreed. "Was there something you needed to get here?"

"Oh, no. I was just looking for you. Were you -"

Theo shook his head. "I only came down to get out of the castle. Well, that, and because accidents are much easier in empty castles."

"You're paranoid, you know," Anne said, but she couldn't help looking around. "On second thoughts…I annoyed the shopkeeper a bit." She scanned the shelves. "Um…here." There was a clef-lined pad mixed up with the sheet music. She grabbed it.

"What's that for?" Theo asked curiously, following her to the counter.

"Terry's been complaining about how all the base parts are really boring. She wanted me to try transposing some of the tunes down."

"Can't she do that?"

"That," Anne declared with a smirk, "is the idea. Just this, please."

The shopkeeper's frown lifted somewhat. "That'll be six sickles."

"You can think like a Slytherin, sometimes," Theo said as they left the shop.

"I'll that in the spirit it was intended," Anne replied.

"As a compliment, of course," Theo said lightly. Anne ducked her head, pretending not to blush.

"Have you heard back from your - from the O'Neills?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, actually. I got a nice chatty letter from Monique." Theo frowned, staring into the distance. "It was…nice."

"The letter, or getting it?"

"Both. I didn't have to read between the lines. Not much, at least."

"I see." If talking to Theo at Hogwarts had felt exposing, it had nothing on this; Anne was on the point of pinching her arm to reassure herself that she was walking down the High Street, in _Hogsmeade_, with _Theo_, in broad daylight, and it wasn't some strange dream. That illusion was shattered when she saw Sarah on the other side of the street with Ellie and some other sixth-years. Anne waved. Ellie waved back, although hesitantly, as did some of the others she knew through classes.

Sarah looked away.

"Something wrong?" Theo said, turning his head to look in the same direction.

"No. Yes. Nothing you can help with," Anne said honestly. "You haven't got any other letters, then?"

"Just one from my mother."

Anne stopped dead, staring up at Theo. "What - but I thought - even for wizards, isn't that a bit -"  
Theo shrugged. He was looking at Anne, but she didn't think he was seeing her. "It was written before she died. She must have had it kept by the Owl Office, or something."

Anne wanted to ask what it had said, but even if she could have, this wasn't the place. "Did you want to get a letter from her?"

"I never thought about it." They'd moved back near the window of the quill shop, out of people's way. "Not for years - it'd stopped mattering - and then all of a sudden she gets a sister, and all these photos I saw at Monique and Callum's, and now a letter, and -" Theo brushed his hair back off his forehead. "I knew she was dead, and that was easy. Now I'm having to find out that she was alive once, too." He paused. "That didn't make much sense, did it?"

"It made perfect sense." Anne reached out to squeeze Theo's hand. "Maybe you need to know she was alive. If that makes sense."

He didn't let go. "I'm not sure I want to, if she's just another person I've betrayed."

"You didn't mean to betray anyone," was the only thing Anne could think of to say, and it wasn't enough.

"No?" He smiled down at her grimly.

All Anne could do was hold on to his hand tighter.

"So," she said after a pause, "Are we actually going anywhere, or just wandering aimlessly."

"Going somewhere," Theo said slowly, pulling her away from the window. "I think. Ma- Ernie Macmillan said, earlier, that he and some of the others were going to meet at the Three Broomsticks around now."

Anne interpreted "the others" to mean the DA. "And…"

"He invited me along. No idea why. So, we could, I don't know, head that way…"

Anne knew she ought to remind Theo they were still holding hands, but decided there was no reason why they shouldn't be. "The question then is, do you want to take him up on that?"

"You know…I rather think I do." Theo's tone was one of mild surprise.

"Why?"

"You Hufflepuffs…the ones in my year, anyway…they're very idealistic."

"I thought ideals were dangerous," Anne reminded him.

"Idealistic and well-meaning. And friendly. And restful to be around. It's nice to be reminded that ideals do not have to include murdering large segments of the population."

"I'm surprised at you, Theo. Someone's going to accuse you of amiability."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," he said as they turned towards the pub. "I just like having somewhere to be, at times. Being me, that is. Not what I'm expected to be."

_Somewhere to be yourself. I can understand why that appeals to you. God knows it appeals to _me

Ernie Macmillan waved at them from a corner of the pub as they entered.

"Of course," Theo muttered as they made their way over, "_I'm_ surprised at me, too."


	12. Counterpoint

**A/N**: A little sooner than normal, since it's the holidays and I don't have much to do. I'm sorry that there aren't proper demarcations between sections, but hates me at the moment; not only is it down every time I mean to upload something, the QuickEdit function tells me it will only work with, among other things, IE 5.0 , even when it's open in IE 5.2. The logic of that I can't quite work out.

Oh, yes: today's Shakespeare quote is from _Richard II_, in case anyone was wondering.

**Chapter Twelve -Counterpoint**

Anne peered around the corner of the second-floor corridor. She'd stayed behind in Arithmancy to ask Professor Vector something, and was well behind most of her classmates for dinner. Hogwarts' corridors seemed a lot emptier these days. Emptier of teachers and other students, that was; much fuller of seventh-year Slytherins. None of them had ever spoken to her, or got much closer than a packed hall away, but Anne had got the feeling that they knew who she was, now, and she didn't like it one bit. Hence her nervousness.

She didn't think they'd like her anymore if they knew the whole story behind the small article in yesterday morning's _Prophet_ about one Paul Amberley being committed for trial before the Wizengamot. It had taken her most of the day to track down Sergeant Tonks in the labyrinthine castle and ask her why it had taken so long. The reason - the one she didn't want to think about - was that, in the end, his guilt came down to her word, Eddie's, and Nicola's. Anne was sixteen, and Muggle-born; that put her word in doubt for many of the Wizengamot. That wasn't even addressing the fact that _using_ her evidence was a red flag to the Death Eaters. Eddie's word was equally double-edged, with the added problem of Muggle eye-witness evidence being inadmissible in wizarding courts. An eight-year-old would be believed in neither Muggle nor wizard courts, so Nicola was right out. Tonks had been kind, but blunt about the facts. It had taken another two months to find sufficient usable evidence to commit Paul Amberley to trial. Anne had asked what had happened after the Aurors had taken him away.

"He was in custody," Tonks had said indifferently. "Too dangerous to let him out."

"Are you allowed to do that?" Anne said, appalled. Even if he was a Death Eater, holding someone in prison because they wanted to seemed a bit -

"Fudge pushed it through last year, just after the Dementors left Azkaban. It seemed necessary." Tonks frowned. "It is necessary, come to that."

"That doesn't seem fair," was all Anne managed.

"It's probably kept your family alive," the Auror reminded her.

Anne swallowed. "I don't…I don't have to like it."

"No one's asking you to. No one's asking _me_ to," Tonks told her dryly. "I'd best be going."

"Thanks. For telling me."

"Anytime."

She hadn't had the chance to speak to Theo yet, and she was unsure what he would feel about it. On the one hand, she'd never got the impression he liked his uncle greatly. On the other, he didn't _dislike_ him particularly, either, and Theo was feeling touchy about family. As anyone would.

Anne herself was simply relieved. The war had come too close to home the day Paul Amberley had Apparated to their street, and it had been sheer blind luck that had saved them. Even more than she'd thought; looking back on it, if he _had_ believed their lie and gone away, there was a good chance he would have discovered it was a lie, and returned. Knowing they knew. Nic's indiscretion had been an unseen blessing. Of sorts. She still relived the following scuffle in nightmares.

_All my magic couldn't save us when a Death Eater came calling. Just Nic's innocence and Eddie's stubbornness. Now there's an answer to the people who think Muggles don't matter. _

_I should pay more attention to them, I really should. _

That guilt was familiar. It had been only enhanced by the arrival of a letter from the pair of them for Anne and Terry. They wrote to their parents, of course, who wrote back, on a regular basis. Nic and Eddie would often offer comments in those letters, but it had been years since Anne had got a letter from Eddie, a whole one. (Nic had been only three when Anne had left for Hogwarts.) This one, written, in Eddie's words, "since we don't see you much and Mum says we should quit whining and start fixing it," was both welcome and an uneasy reminder that Anne hadn't done enough to solve the problem. She was going to write back tonight, she resolved. Maybe she could find Terry and they could write a joint letter…no, that was up to Terry to do.

_Of course, if she _doesn't _write back, I'll have to do something about it. Mind you, Terry never misses a chance to tell anyone what she's thinking. _

She jumped as the sound of quiet sobbing echoed down the next turn of the corridor. It was only a few doors and a flight of stairs down to the Great Hall and lunch; why would anyone be crying here?  
Turning the corner revealed a girl hunched up in one of the window alcoves overlooking the front lawns. Anne could see the flash of a blue-and-bronze tie - a Ravenclaw, then - but the girl's face was hidden by a sheet of dark hair. Her hand was clutching the windowsill so tightly it looked as though she might break the stone.

"Are you all right?" Anne asked. She couldn't just leave her there. "Can I - do you need to go to Madam Pomfrey?"

"Go away," the girl said, not looking up. "Just go away, whoever you are."

"Are you sure -"

"Leave me _alone_," the girl snapped, raising her head. Her cheeks were blotched with tears. The face was familiar, but Anne couldn't quite place it.

Those half-recognised features narrowed in recognition of Anne, though.

"You," the girl hissed. "What do you think you're doing, talking to me?"

"I'm sorry, I don't -" Anne began, but the memory clicked into place, and she realised, indeed, that talking to Paul Amberley's daughter, Theo's cousin, was not something she should be doing. "Oh. I'll just…I'll just be going."

The other girl made a quick grab for something in one of her pockets, but Anne was past her and heading down the stairs to the thankfully populated Great Hall.

"Bye," she said hastily. _Because Celia Amberley really wants me to say good-bye to her. Manners are a pain, sometimes. _

There was silence, and the echo of a sob as Anne entered the bustling Hall. It might have been her imagination. She hoped so.

"You took a while," said Brian Lochore as she sat down. "Were you talking to the Professor?"

"Mmm," Anne agreed, grabbing a plate. She was starving. Maybe eating would take her mind off the sobbing girl in the corridor -

_- who is crying because you put her father in the Aurors' hands -_

_- because he wanted to kill you and your family - _

_- because you know Theo - _

_- and Theo ran away - _

_- because Theo didn't want to kill -_

_- because the Dark Lord demands that of his followers…_

"Here, have some shepherd's pie," offered Gabby. "It's really good. You okay?"

"Fine," Anne reassured her. "Just…fine."

"You don't look okay," Gabby said, frowning. "Honestly, you look really upset, like Mary Clarke was in Defence, but that was because her boyfriend just dumped her, and - you're not fighting with Nott, are you?"

Anne bit back a smile. "No, Gabby, we're just fine."

"Oh. That's good, because, you know," she lowered her voice, "I know Sarah doesn't like him very much but you do so that's okay with me. Even if he's really rude."

"He - never mind," Anne corrected herself. "How was Divination?"

"It was so _boring_." Gabby rolled her eyes. "We had Professor Trelawney, so we weren't actually doing anything, and then Jeremy set the tablecloth on fire with the candles we were using, and -"

Anne used the time to eat her lunch. Gabby was one of the most annoying people on God's earth, but at least she was easily diverted. And she wasn't, well, actively unpleasant. She liked everyone. She liked talking about everyone, as she was demonstrating with a diversion into Jeremy's girlfriends or lack thereof. Brian, across the table, met Anne's eyes ruefully and started talking to Mai.

"Anne, are you listening?" came Gabby's voice plaintively. Anne swallowed a hasty bite of the pie, which was delicious. "Yes, of course."

"You weren't." Gabby wrinkled her nose. "What were you thinking?"

Anne considered this for a moment, and the still overwhelming image of Celia Amberley crying, all for an interconnecting chain of events that both blamed and exonerated Anne.

"I'm thinking that You Know Who has a lot to answer for," she replied eventually.

Gabby gave her a puzzled look. "Anne, do you live on the same planet as the rest of us?"

Anne felt a sudden surge of annoyance at the intimation that she was strange for thinking about what mattered, when Gabby ignored the world. But there was no way to tell Gabby that.

"I've never lived on your planet," she said instead. "I don't think I ever will."

Gabby shook her head. "You're probably right. Oh, look, here comes Sarah!"

Anne stiffened, and tried to pretend she hadn't. Now she was going to have to keep up an amicable conversation. It was becoming increasingly difficult.

"Why're you so late, Sarah?" Mai's voice floated out across the table.

Sarah flopped into the chair beside Anne with a sigh. "It was stupid. There was this Ravenclaw fourth-year crying in the corridor, and I had to make her go to Madam Pomfrey - it took forever, she was really rude to me. Some people just won't listen when you're trying to help them." The last was said with a significant glance at Anne, which melted into concern.

"Anne, are you all right?"

Sarah cared; it was hard to remember, sometimes.

_She's doing her level best to ruin my life because she's worried about me. _

_I'm sure Theo knows some quote about motives that fits. _

"I'm fine," Anne said. "Just fine."

Theo glanced out the window of the Transfiguration classroom. It wasn't going to be much fun at the Quidditch on Saturday; the cold weather that had been threatening all week had finally arrived. Most of the nearby mountains were fog-shrouded, apart from those directly across the lake. They were hung with a veil of steadily approaching rain. Wind was whipping up the lake, too, carrying leaves with it. A gloomy day.

He turned back to his table. Transfiguration was not a good class, this year. There were enough people doing it that it was divided up by Houses, which meant sharing a class with his fellow Slytherins and the Gryffindors. Which was not particularly enjoyable. True, the Gryffindors did not ignore him, but there was a barrier of mutual respect and wariness that neither side cared to breach. Theo could respect and even grudgingly admire the Gryffindors in his year (at least, some of them; membership in the DA could not save Lavender Brown). But he didn't have to like them. The other Slytherins hated the Gryffindors, but they despised Theo. So he was by himself, leaning back in his chair and trying to work out why his attempts at conjuring a quill got as far as feathers, but stopped at points. He considered asking McGonagall, but she was busy chastising Draco Malfoy for talking instead of working. Theo could have told him it was stupid trying to plot in Transfiguration - plotting was for outside classes. Of course, there was no way Draco would speak two words to him - well, maybe a specific two words. Harry Potter and his friends were carrying on a very serious conversation behind McGonagall's back, but they did appear to have managed the conjuration.

Fortunately for Draco Malfoy, the bell rang at just that moment. McGonagall didn't let them leave without assigning an essay - the third Theo had got that day - but it wasn't due in for a week, thankfully. Seventh year was pure, unadulterated hell for anyone who disliked homework.

He looked out the window again as he began to pack his things away. A group of younger students could be seen crossing the lawn, probably coming back from Herbology; Theo could just make out Ravenclaw and Slytherin scarves on them. One dark-haired girl might even be his cousin Celia.

Now there was a thought to avoid. He hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and headed out of the classroom. It had taken the formal announcement of Paul Amberley's trial to drag the admission out of Anne that the Death Eater who had come so close to finding her home had been his uncle. That had precipitated a fight, one that had left both of them very upset. Anne had defended herself with "I forgot," which Theo had rightly denounced as rubbish. She'd fallen back on "It wasn't very important," but quickly abandoned that for "I didn't think you'd want to know." Theo perceived, dimly, that she probably hadn't told him from a mixture of genuine forgetfulness and a belief that he had enough on his plate. It was true, but Anne should have known better. Theo needed her to tell him the truth. That was the whole point of, of everything. He could trust Anne. Not that he'd stopped, but he'd never considered, before, that she would keep something like that from him. If ignorance was bliss, and knowledge was power, well, Theo was a Slytherin. He knew which one he'd rather have.

The route from the Transfiguration classroom to the dungeons was short enough that Theo decided to drop his books off before dinner. He'd taken to keeping everything in his trunk, these days. Locked. There had been more than charms for letters in that book he'd found in the library, some of them closer to the Dark Arts than not. Not close enough for the book to be in the Restricted Section, but enough to warn the others in his dormitory if they tried anything (and they had) that "not a Death Eater" did not translate to "soft". In any language.

He had to walk through the Entrance Hall to get to the dungeons. His timing was perfectly unfortunate; the group of students he'd seen crossing the lawns earlier were just walking in. He'd been right. The dark-haired girl _was_ Celia.

Theo wasn't sure what benighted part of his brain led him to say hello as he walked past her. Thirteen years was not an excuse. It should have been a warning.

"What's the _matter_ with you?" Celia spat, rounding on him. "First those stupid Hufflepuffs, now you - are you that idiotic, Theodore? I don't have anything to do with you."

Her friends looked torn between agreement and embarrassment; Theo felt much the same.  
"In that case, you'd better just ignore me, then," was not the most sensible of follow-ups. He said it anyway.

Celia hissed. Theo was rather impressed. He'd never heard anyone do that before. "You don't get it, do you? I knew all along. I _knew_ you weren't one of us. You had those Muggle books, all hidden, and you thought you were fooling everyone, but not me. But I didn't say anything, because Mum and Dad trusted you. And now Dad's going to prison, and it's _all your fault_. You're going to pay, Theodore." She said the last with a certain vicious pleasure.

Theo took some time to process this - he'd known Celia was nosy, but not that she'd suspected anything. By the time he formulated a suitable reply, Celia had left. It was a classic tactic on her behalf. You were supposed to follow and beg forgiveness. It had never worked with Theo, and he didn't think she had any intention of forgiving him now, so he headed for the dungeons, instead. Several pertinent things occurred to him on the way down, and back up to dinner.

_I knew there was a reason I'd been avoiding her. Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

_Those stupid Hufflepuffs? Plural? Anne mentioned she'd seen her, but who else? _

_My fault? How does she know - oh, yes. She would have known he was looking for me. Great job I'm doing, alienating everyone. My House, my family…_

_The purest treasure mortal times afford is spotless reputation…. _

_Shut _up_, Mowbray. _

It occurred to Theo, later, that he wasn't feeling half as guilty as he should be. Whatever way you looked at it, if he had not chosen flight over the Dark Lord, Paul Amberley would not be rotting in Azkaban awaiting trial. But he couldn't force himself to feel as guilty as he had even over Catriona being attacked, and the connection between that and him was far murkier. (Perhaps non-existent; the O'Neills were all quite well, two months after.) Responsible, yes. He certainly felt responsible. Just not guilty.  
That frightened him, in a dim way. His uncle might not be family by blood, but he was family all the same; he and Karena had looked after Theo for the last two summers. Theo had been brought up with the mantra drilled into him that family mattered. No matter what. It was a necessary off-shoot of an attachment to purity, but there was genuine affection bound up in it as well.

_But then, by those lights, I never should have left. _

Possibly it wasn't a lack of guilt. Just too much, all at once; it was too hard to care about what happened to his uncle and aunt, too hard to care about Celia's hatred, too hard to wonder about what Lucas must think of him. It was too hard to care about any of them any more, when all caring could do was make Theo feel worse about himself, about the world, about everything. He could remember worrying over something like this, back in April. Worrying that it was too easy to let go, when there were so many good reasons to do so.

In the end, it wasn't that it was too easy to let go; it was that it was too hard to hold on. Too hard to pretend it was still the past and that there was a point to finding Celia and apologising, because it was the future and there wasn't a point.

The next time he saw Celia, she didn't ignore him, as she'd promised; she couldn't restrain herself from a spiteful stare. Theo was the one who ignored her. Too hard. Too hard to try safeguarding the ruins of bridges he had burnt, bridges that, in any case, he did not want to rebuild (did he? Did they?)

Still, Theo sat down that night in the common room, and wrote a letter. It was long, once he finished; there was a lot to explain. He couldn't send it, of course. It would almost certainly not be read, and if it was, and there _was_ a reply -

Well, that would be too hard, as well. Too hard to try and pretend when all that was asked was one of the few things he could not give for his father. So the letter went into the bottom of his trunk. It was joined, over the course of the year, by more.

hr 

For once, nothing was happening, and Anne couldn't believe it. It was simply Saturday evening, and she wasn't doing homework, or at a DA meeting, or catching up with Terry, or talking to Theo, or worrying about Theo, or…anything. She was sitting on the floor in the common room, playing Patience, while Gabby and Ellie sat on the couch and talked. The common room was filled with the quiet hum of Hufflepuffs talking, working, and dozing. It was peaceful.

_Two years ago it was _normal. _Not special. Mum was right about there being a few minutes less in the day the older you get. _

The sheer normality of the evening was evident in her success at Patience; absolutely none, which was exactly right. Mai was always curious as to why Anne played a game that she never won.  
"Don't you get sick of not winning?" she'd ask. "Most games, you can win once, but I've never seen you finish a game."

"That's not the point," Anne would tell her. "It's something to do. I don't play to win."  
Mai would shrug. "If you have fun."

She was presently at a nearby table, close enough to enter the conversation but able to pretend to herself that she was working. Anne wasn't paying much attention to the conversation; she was concentrating more on the cards. It was much easier with a spell to shuffle them properly (she'd never learned the Muggle way, though Theo had spent an hour trying to show her how. Terry, to Anne's chagrin, had picked it up in three minutes.) With this game, you kept going back to the beginning. She was turning over her first card when Gabby's voice caught her ears.

"Well, it's not just all gossip and stuff. Of course the Death Eaters are wrong, but you have to admit -"

"What do we have to admit?" Ellie said coolly. "It is just gossip. And rumour. And stupidity. Muggle-borns aren't magic enough. Muggle-borns don't fit in. Muggle-borns aren't as upright and nice as the rest of us. It's all rubbish."

"Some of them don't exactly fall over themselves to go against all that," Gabby sniffed.

Anne considered a comment, but the problem was that Gabby would be honestly affronted if Anne suggested Gabby had been insulting her. She picked up another set of cards, instead. Mai should be coming in just about -

"Gabby, it did occur to you that Anne is Muggle-born? Not that it ever does." Mai's tone held long impatience. A pity Sarah wasn't here; she did manage to exercise authority, however tenuously.

"And so is my father," Ellie added unexpectedly. "Do you even know anyone who fits the Death Eater propaganda? Look at the Muggle-borns _we_ know. Hermione Granger, smartest witch in the school. Dave Hewitt, in our class, for God's sake, most morally upright person I've ever come across. Anne, who's…Anne."

Anne met the uncertain glance with a wry smile, but said nothing. She could have finished the sentence, herself. _Anne who fits in so well we don't notice her, who's so normal she fades away, except that she isn't anymore and how the hell do we deal with that? _

"Oh, of course most of it's gossip," Gabby said carelessly, tossing her hair back, "but you don't know everything, Ellie." For a moment her mouth tightened. Anne blinked, laying a jack down; it was an unexpectedly hard look for Gabby. She was many things, some of them decidedly annoying, but malicious, never.

_Sarah wasn't - _isn't_ - malicious, and now I can barely carry on a civil conversation with her. _

"What don't we know?" asked Mai from her table. "If it's one of those old stories about Hermione Granger dumping Harry Potter, don't bother."

"It's not about anyone at school," Gabby began, then hesitated. That was unusual enough to get Anne's attention; Gabby did not hesitate in stories. Discretion was just another long word where she was concerned.

"It's nothing very important," she said, slowly. Anne frowned at her cards, only half-seeing them. Maybe if she moved that queen out of the way…There was a rustle from the couch as Ellie unfolded her arms.

"We're listening," she said. "Evidence from all sides, after all."

"My father's first wife was Muggle-born," Gabby said. Anne looked up, studying her. A slight frown marred Gabby's forehead; she wouldn't look directly at Ellie. "They got divorced, oh, ages ago, but they had a son."

"I didn't know you had a half-brother," Anne commented. "Is he much older?"

"Lots. He's got a couple of kids himself, now; they're about three and five. _That_'s not important." Gabby flicked her half-brother away with a wave of her hand. "I don't know him very much, or them. His mother got married again after she left Dad. The thing is…"

Anne had never known Gabby this reluctant to tell a story, even one that impacted on her. The details of her first boyfriend, in fourth-year, and their break-up, had been told with a light tongue and wicked humour.

"So your dad got divorced once. It's not the end of the world," Ellie shrugged. Even the scritch of Mai's quill had halted, now.

"Yes, but it didn't matter until now, because they hated each other," Gabby burst out, eyes bright with anger. "But now Dad's gone and started talking to her again - just because they're grand-parents, it's _ridiculous_- and even Mum gets on with her - and I know she's really horrible!"

"What did she do?" Anne asked.

Gabby bestowed upon her a look she normally reserved for blind idiocy. "Because Dad divorced her, of _course_ she must be horrible!"

"Of course," Ellie muttered.

"And now I have to see her son and his kids, and _she_ even came over for lunch in the holidays with her husband. She should just go away and leave us all alone. If she was a…a decent person, she wouldn't have got divorced. Decent people don't do that."

"But what does this have to do with Muggle-borns?" Mai said, looking bemused. "Sure, we wizards don't get divorced much, but it happens."

"_She_'s Muggle-born. It's all her fault," Gabby said, with the air of one pronouncing sentence.

"And if we know people like her, then -"

Anne remembered Gabby's pure-blood innocence at the idea of the war coming to her doorstep, and completed the sentence.

"- then the Death Eaters will have a reason to come after your family. For tainting themselves."

Gabby blinked, and looked at Anne for the first time. "Well, yes! It's all right if you're Muggle-born anyway, but Dad should know better!"

"There are no guarantees, Gabby," Ellie said wearily. "My aunt. She was as pure-blood as most people get, these days, and they killed her. No promises. No safety."

"There are two sides, in wars, not three," Mai explained. Again. "Gabby…we're all in danger, a bit, or a lot, as long as there's a war. Merlin, just look at Cedric Diggory. As pure-blood as they come, innocent, harmless, and he was the first one to die. If your family get in their way, who your dad used to be married to won't make the slightest bit of difference."

Gabby shook her head stubbornly, hunching into herself. "We'd be safer."

Anne thought of the Martins, seemingly so long ago, and Theo, broken out of his exquisite trap into another one. Dean Thomas, another Muggle-born, another casualty. Her own family. And Gabby's determined, patient denial; looking for someone and anyone to blame, somewhere, anywhere, to hide.

"What about your little sister?" she said into the silence. "What does she think?"

Gabby looked even more sullen. "She likes having a niece and nephew. She thinks they're cute."

"Well, are they?" said Mai, sounding amused.

"Yes." Gabby scowled.

Anne let out a noise of frustration. "I'm stuck. Ellie, can you see any moves I could make?" Ellie leaned over to peer at the cards. "Uh…nope."

"Why do you play that, anyway?" Gabby rolled her eyes. Then her expression cleared. "Muggle cards. They're so boring. I'll go and get my Exploding Snap cards, shall I?" She bounced up off the couch, pausing only to call back "Mai, you have to play too!"

Mai sighed and corked her ink-bottle. "All right."

"Nice save," Ellie muttered, sliding down onto the floor and helping Anne pick up her cards.

"Well, you know Gabby, she'll forget all about it in three minutes," Anne shrugged. "She's like that."

"You're a saint, sometimes," said Ellie, half-seriously. "You know that?"

Mai, joining them, laughed outright. "A saint? Excuse me? For all the dirty looks you've been throwing at Sarah -"

"I don't throw dirty looks at anyone," Anne protested.

"She means well," Mai said, stretching out on the floor. "Just let her be. She gets over things."

"I know she does." Anne took a breath. "But I'm not going to if she doesn't stop interfering. It's my life, and my choices. I don't need a mother."

"And how happy would your mum be about Nott?" Ellie said, eyebrows raised.

"My mother," Anne announced with dignity, "likes Theo perfectly well, thank you."

Mai pushed herself up on her elbows. "You're not serious!"

"I'm very serious," Anne said grimly.

"You need to tell Sarah what you think yourself," Ellie told her. "She's not a mind-reader. If you just avoid her, she can't know."

"I - well, I don't want to start a fight," Anne replied with an awkward shrug. "You know how Sarah gets. If - things could get very…uncomfortable. With all of us."

"You did say it was your life," Mai said dryly. "Deal with it."

"We'll see." Anne folded her arms around her knees.

"Sorry I took so long, they were at the bottom of my trunk." Gabby plopped herself down, apparently oblivious to the tension. "First I thought I'd lent them to Sarah, and I couldn't look in her trunk, and she's at that Prefect meeting, then I remembered I'd got them back, and then they were under all my socks -"

"Shall I deal, or do you want to?" Ellie said.

"I will." Gabby chattered on as she dealt out the cards. "I'm so glad I'm not a Prefect, it must be impossible with all the meetings -"

Anne wondered if Gabby really had forgotten her anger, or whether she was burying it; it was impossible to tell. She had far too much practice at, well, _people_, to let something like that dissuade her from her talk.

_Talk…talking to Sarah. They're right, I suppose. Ignoring the hints will only get me so far. _

_But I don't have to like it. _


	13. Accelerando

**A/N:** I like to think of this as the chapter where stuff starts happening. And continues to happen, really, for the rest of the story.

**Chapter 13 - Accelerando**

Theo knew that he was tired when the corridor near the entrance to his common room began to seem like an attractive place to lie down and sleep. Certainly, it was dark and cold and very possibly damp. On the other hand, it was not his dormitory (definitely a positive) and his eyelids were fighting a losing battle with sleep. Getting detention with Madam Pince had not been a good idea. Not from his point of view, anyway. Of course, it hadn't _been_ his idea. It had been Draco Malfoy's. Or at least he presumed so. At the very least, it was someone in his dormitory who'd torn several pages out of one of the library books he'd had. The one on wards, ironically, because he had been stupidly careless enough to leave it beside his bed instead of locking it safely away in his trunk. The wards on his trunk remained unbroken; warding his bed was second nature, before he went to sleep, as was checking it for nasty surprises before he got in. Leaving the book out had invited an attack, and Theo blamed himself in no little measure. He'd known that any misstep on his part would cause the descent of the vultures. Madam Pince had given him detention when he returned the book, and he hadn't bothered complaining. There was no point. No _proof_. Snape had given him a lecture about it, too, mostly around the subject of being stupid enough to let it happen.

The end result had been four hours of shelving and the resulting stumble back to the Slytherin common room at a ridiculously late hour. He _was_ tired; the shadows seemed to be waiting, menacingly, to creep up and devour him the minute his eyes closed. Maybe Peeves was somewhere nearby. He'd become much bolder since fifth-year, even with Dumbledore's return -

A swish of robes behind him gave it away. Theo had just enough time to think _I'm an idiot_ before the world went black.

Anne rolled over again, trying to find a comfortable position. Sleep was eluding her, tonight. It wasn't through lack of tiredness; she had been quite weary enough to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. It was a combination of fear, tinged with guilt, and spiced with anger. The fear stemmed from after dinner, when she had been cornered on her way to the practice rooms (to do homework, not music; Theo was serving detention in the library, and probably didn't need the distraction. The common room…she didn't want to think about that.) Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode were two of the more unpleasant Slytherin seventh-years. Two of the ones who were displaying an unfortunate awareness of who Anne Fairleigh was. What their intentions had been, Anne didn't precisely know, but the general nature had been obvious from their not-so-veiled threats. Just as she'd been shrinking against the wall and wondering if she could hex both of them in time to get out of there, salvation had come in the unlikely form of Terry.

"What are you doing to my sister?" Terry had yelled from behind the Slytherins. "Leave her alone, you bullies!"

The Slytherin girls had not been particularly intimidated by one under-sized second year, but they had turned their backs on Anne for just long enough for Anne to discover that practice might not make perfect, but it did make her Stunning spell strong enough to take down Millicent Bulstrode.  
Anne hadn't recognised Pansy Parkinson's curse, although it had sounded…ominous, but the other girl hadn't planned on Terry cannoning bodily into her, sending the hex to splash harmlessly off a wall, and letting Anne disarm her. Deciding discretion was the greater part of valour, she'd taken to her heels, dragging a protesting Terry along, and pausing only to drop Pansy's wand when she was back in the main, well-travelled corridors.

"Why are you leaving it?" Terry had complained. "You can't give it back -"

"If I steal it, she can complain about that. If I don't, she'll just have to keep her mouth shut," Anne said firmly. "Now get back to your common room, quickly."

"I'm not leaving you -"

"Go!"

Terry had hesitated, and left, allowing Anne to head full-tilt for her own common room and safety. She'd run smack into Professor McGonagall in the Entrance Hall.

"Miss Fairleigh!" the Transfiguration teacher had exclaimed. "I would have thought you knew better than to run in the corridors. That will have to be five points from Hufflepuff."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Anne had gasped out, "but some of the Slytherins -" She paused. "I can't _prove_ it, but they were - I think they were going to - anyway, I needed to get back to my common room. Sorry."

McGonagall regarded her critically. "I…see. Which Slytherins, may I ask?"

"Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode." Honesty had compelled her to admit, "They didn't actually _do_ anything…"

"Did you give them time?"

Anne coughed. "No, Professor."

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Well. It seems unfair to take a student's unsupported word, when…I advise you do get back to your common room, Miss Fairleigh. And - do be careful. We can't be everywhere." Her eyes had darkened. "We shouldn't need to be."

"Thank you, Professor," Anne had said, then taken off at a more sedate pace. She'd reached the common room unmolested, only to remember the reason she hadn't wanted to go back there.

Shaking herself into the present, she rolled over again, to face the window. Sarah, beneath it, was a blanket-covered lump in the bright light of the full moon, streaming through the false-window which gave the cellar dormitories a glimpse of the outside world. _She_ was sleeping peacefully. It didn't seem fair.

_Rehashing things doesn't do any good, _Anne told herself sternly, and closed her eyes once more.

Theo had a headache when he awoke. That was the first bad sign, one he recognised from being Stunned during DA meetings. The second was the fact the surface beneath him was not the hard stone of the corridor, but the alternately soft and prickly feel of the leaves and sticks of a forest floor. The rough and tightly knotted ropes tying him hand and foot weren't a good sign, either. He didn't want to open his eyes. The sinking feeling in his stomach told him things could only get worse.  
They did. Opening his eyes revealed a forest clearing. Almost certainly the Forbidden Forest. The chill white light of a full moon illuminated the clearing much too well for Theo's liking. It was the one where Hagrid had shown them the Thestrals, in fifth-year. He had been dumped near the edge, in the shadow of an oak tree.

The muffled noises of night-foraging creatures were the worst bit, Theo decided. It eliminated any hope that his classmates had been stupid enough to, say, leave him out for the Thestrals to eat. No; just werewolves, or centaurs, or whatever else inhabited the forest. Wonderful. _Wonderful_. The whole plan smacked of Malfoy. The hands-off nature of Theo's planned demise; the elaborate ambush; the time allowed for Theo to anticipate his fate. It was petty, vengeful, and…totally Malfoyian.

Theo could feel his heart pounding, but the fight-or-flight response wasn't doing him much good.

_It was late enough that they'll be pretending to have been asleep the whole time. Who'll contradict them? They'll say I just never came back…and when they do find me, oh dear, he wandered into the Forbidden Forest. Breaking the rules. So tragic. Never mind the ropes. Typical oversight. _

_I am going to die. _

He didn't need to check to know that his wand would be go- no, wait, it was still there. It was definitely Malfoy, then. Nobody else would have the monumental arrogance to try and kill someone by tying them up in the Forbidden Forest on a full moon night and _leave them their wand_. Theo tried to organise his thoughts.

_Right. I am tied up. I do have my wand. I can't get it out. There are werewolves. Probably. Unless I'm imaging the sounds. Hah. Fat chance. It's the bloody Forbidden Forest._

_I _am_ going to die. _

Theo tried struggling against the ropes. No good; they were tight, and rough, and burned his wrists. The howling sounded closer, or was that just his imagination? Where were the Thestrals, anyway? They might have been some help. Several minutes of effort only managed to get him sitting half-way up, braced against the tree, and what good was that?

No good. He fell back against the tree. It was almost impossible to reconcile reality with….reality; surely this was some sort of bad dream. Surely. It had to be. The cold wind, the sour taste of fear, the rough ropes, the merciless white moonlight; a dream. A nightmare. It had to be.

Gritting his teeth, Theo began once more to fight the ropes. If this was a book, there would be convenient sharp stones. The only stones in sight were round, and smooth, and quite, quite useless. Malfoy and the others were going to pay for this.

_If I survive to make them. _

It was no good, Anne decided at about midnight; she really wasn't going to get to sleep ignoring things. Thank God it was Friday. She wouldn't have to sit through classes with Sarah tomorrow. She could sleep in, more to the point.

It had been a truly ugly scene before she'd fled. Anne had had no idea that Ellie's sensible suggestion she try talking to Sarah would degenerate so rapidly or unpleasantly. She'd approached her after dinner.

"Can I have a word, Sarah?" she'd asked hesitantly.

"Sure, always. Sit down, Anne." Sarah had pulled out the chair beside her, and Anne had dropped into it, folding her hands in her lap. "What is it?"

Sarah's voice _had_ been tinged with wariness, but no more than normal, these days. As a Prefect, she was used to people coming to her, Anne had supposed.

"Look, Sarah…" Anne's carefully prepared phrases had already begun to float away. There had been no nice way to say what she wanted, which was, essentially, "Get your nose out of my business." Theo had been no help there. "Sarah, I know you try to look after all of us."

Sarah had shrugged. "Well, it's my job. Is something wrong?" She had frowned in concern. "Look, if it's - well, I always said that you and Nott was a bad idea, and -"

"That's just it!" Anne had said, frustration bursting out. "You keep saying it. And saying it. And it's _not true_. So, please - you're my friend, and I don't want to have a fight, I don't, but I'm just asking…let me make my own decisions about who I see. Please, Sarah. I hate the way things are at the moment."  
It had been the wrong thing to say. When she'd spoken, Sarah's tone had been decidedly cool. "Well, you know what the solution to that is, don't you?"

Anne had hung her head. "Not your solution, Sarah."

"I'm just trying to help you!" Sarah had said. When Anne looked up, Sarah was glaring at her. "You're so - I've tried telling you, but you won't listen. It won't work, you and him. He's a Slytherin, and he's probably a Death Eater - oh, he might tell you he's not, but -"

"Sarah," Anne had said quietly, "I _cannot_ listen to you if that's all you have to say. You're wrong."

"Be that way, then," Sarah had snarled. "I don't know what's the matter with you this year - stubborn, and blind, and - you don't want to be one of us, fine! Just fine! But don't bother talking to me until you're ready to see sense. And don't come crying to me when it goes wrong."

"I don't want to fight with you about this. There's no point," Anne had replied, desperate. "Can't we agree to disagree, or, or something?"

"You can't have it two ways. You're part of this House, or you're not. Come back when you've made up your mind." Sarah had pulled her chair around and bent her head to her books. Anne might as well have not existed.

Anne had sat there, honestly stunned. _You're part of this House, or you're not_? What was that supposed to mean? Was Sarah really that - that narrow, or that prejudiced?

She'd stood up, not knowing where to go. Over in the corner, she had seen Hannah Abbott looking concerned - another Prefect. Another responsible person - but for all she was in the DA, Anne did not know her well enough for comfort now.

Having no idea where the others might be, she had decided to head for the dormitory. Hopefully it was empty, and she could…well, by this point, burst into tears, probably. Upon discovering Gabby fussing around looking for her hairbrush, Anne had sat down on her bed and promptly, humiliatingly, done so.

"Oh, my - Anne, are you, uh, all right?" Gabby had asked. "I - uh - what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Anne had replied, curling up into a small bundle of misery. "It's not important."

"Oh." Anne could hear Gabby thinking. "I'll…be right back."

"No!" Anne had pulled herself out of crying long enough to say urgently, "I…don't get Sarah."

Gabby had favoured her with that "you-_are_-an-idiot" look. "Of course not. I'm getting Ellie."

The ten minutes or so it had taken Gabby to find Ellie - and Mai, as things turned out - had been enough time for Anne to compose herself into an occasionally sobbing mess, rather than a bawling one. She hadn't looked up when she heard them returning, hadn't looked at anything until Ellie, much taller, had sat down beside her and pulled in her into a hug.

"Hey, Anne, it's okay. We're here."

That statement, combined with Ellie's embrace and Mai's hand on her shoulder, had done nothing more than make her start crying again.

"This is _horrible_," she'd wailed into Ellie's shoulder. "Sarah w-won't talk to m-me, and she - she said I w-wasn't a proper H-Hufflepuff, and it was awful. I c-can't just d-deal with her anymore. And n-now I can't s-stop crying."

"Go and talk to Sarah, Gabby," Mai had ordered.

"Why? Sarah's not upset," Gabby had said sullenly. "She can go hang."

"So she doesn't come in here, you twit," Ellie had told her in exasperated tones. "Gossip. Chat. Just keep her out."

"Oh. Right. Will do." Anne had heard Gabby's footsteps recede.

"Now," Ellie had said when the sobs had ceased and Anne had raised her head, "tell us what she said."  
Anne had recounted the conversation, looking from one face to another. Ellie had stayed calm; Mai's face had darkened.

"Damn it!" she had cried, jumping to her feet to pace. "Sarah shouldn't do things like this. I mean - Anne, you did know the consequences, and I can see her - but she - this is ridiculous. This is past ridiculous, it's insane."

"And a half," Ellie had agreed, glowering. "Here, Anne." She'd handed Anne a handkerchief. Anne had taken it gratefully. Her face had been sticky with drying tears.

"Look, Anne," Mai had said, turning around to face her, "I think you'd better just...stay out of Sarah's way for a while. Until we can talk her round."

"That won't be hard," Anne had replied, voice rusty. "I don't want to talk to her much."

"I don't s'pose you do, but Anne, you've got to remember…she's mad at you, too." Ellie had sounded hesitant. "As far as she's concerned, you're putting Nott over your friendship with her."

"It's not like that!" Anne had protested. "I'm not putting anyone over anything - it's not one or the other. Besides, I've been friends with him for _years_, and it hasn't changed anything."

"She's mad you didn't say anything to us, too," Mai had added. "Don't forget - she won't say this to you, but she's said it to us. She just wants you to be the way you were. You know, not doing strange things. But," she had said quickly, "she's totally out of order on this one, we know. Your life is your life, whatever…whatever weird things you do with it. Even if - whatever _you_ do."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Anne had sniffled.

"It's all right," Ellie had said, rubbing Anne's shoulder. "We're not going to walk away over this. Sarah will come round, you'll see."

"I just want her to…accept what is. Not change. Just let me be." Anne had felt the upset, and the anger, draining away, leaving…hollowness. Why couldn't life be simple? "I think…I'm going to go and do some studying somewhere else." She would go to the practice rooms; they should be empty. The quiet would be nice.

Then, she recalled, had come the run-in with the Slytherins, and the slow walk back to the common room. And the stiff silence of the dormitory. She pulled the blankets up around her chin; she had to get some sleep, or she'd be worn out tomorrow.

_And what do I say to Theo? I had a little argument with Sarah, and I'm upset. His dormmates will probably try murder if they get the chance. It's nothing. Not compared to what he's got on his plate, this year. He's probably sleeping less soundly than I am, tonight. _

_But he'll listen. I need him to listen. Just to know I'm doing the right thing. _

_I'll talk to him tomorrow. _

It was lucky, Theo reflected, that the slight breeze was blowing towards him. Of course, it carried all the ominous noises of the Forest with frightening clarity, but at least it wasn't carrying his scent, his noises, towards…whatever was out there.

It was a miracle he was still alive, probably. He'd been there at least an hour; the moon had shifted position, and the shadows in the clearing were now slanting towards him. His wrists were raw and bloody, and the ropes burnt like fire. He could see patches of his own blood staining them, from the futile struggle to loosen the knots.

_Stupid. I should have stopped when I realised the ropes wouldn't give. Now my wrists hurt like hell, and I'm no nearer to escaping. Oh, and there's blood. Just in case I needed anything more to attract the werewolves, or dragons, or giants, or manticores, or whatever else lives in this damned forest.  
_He would have stopped when his wrists began to chafe, but it was amazing what the prospect of sudden death did to you. For one thing, slowing down was almost impossible. For another, it sharpened your mind wonderfully. All sorts of morbid things floated to the surface.

_Alas, poor Theodore, I knew him well…_

_No! I will not be fatalistic!_

He'd made all sorts of good resolutions tonight. It would be a real pity if he never got to put any of them into practice.

Terry, for instance. He would have given anything to see her walk into the clearing, as small and annoying as she was. If he got out of here, he was definitely going to be nicer to Terry. A bit. More polite, anyway.

And Anne. Theo didn't know what he could sacrifice that was precious enough to get _her_ here, but if he knew, he'd gladly have given it. He half-expected her to turn up anyway; Anne had a habit of being around when he really needed her. Theo hadn't made a habit of needing people, and he wasn't going to admit it to anyone – but he wouldn't mind admitting to Anne that he needed her around. Had he ever? He should. He _would_, if he got out of these damn ropes.

The O'Neills, of course. Looking back on it, he'd been quite…stand-offish, really. Writing to them had bridged the gap, a little, but he wasn't going to waste the opportunity. His father…what happened there would happen. Had happened, probably. But the O'Neills were not trying to replace the family he'd lost, and he wasn't going to try that either. They just _were_ family, and he could appreciate them as that. He would.

The rest of his year, too; the DA, who were comrades if not friends. He wished they were here. He was definitely going to appreciate them in future. The Hufflepuffs, especially, who had given him a place to simply _be_ when his House had turned on him. In large doses, Theo suspected he would get quickly annoyed by them, but in small ones, they were more than tolerable. Even Zacharias Smith was okay if he kept his mouth shut. Ernie Macmillan was almost, well…friendly. That was decent of him. It wasn't as if he'd had any reason to. Compared to his Housemates…and there was nothing Theo could think of that was too horrible for _them_. Except, of course, that he couldn't afford the trouble it would cause if he tried to take them on by himself, and the rest of his year was already at open odds with them. There was very little he could do there.

These righteous thoughts were interrupted by a movement in the shadows on the edge of the clearing. Theo froze. He could hear his heart pounding, erratically, in his ears. Despite himself, he began to strain against the ropes again; the pain was nothing compared to the need to _get out_.  
The shadow resolved into a Thestral, black as the night and twice as eerie. The horse - horses, there were several - plodded towards him. Theo wished he could say "amiably."

_Not dangerous. Hah. They only bite you if you annoy them. So comforting. I _am_ going to kill Malfoy, and damn the consequences. Fair turnaround, after all. _

The nearest one was close enough to touch, if Theo's arms had been free, and he stared into its eyes with something approaching manic calm. If it did decide to take a chunk out of him, and he wouldn't trust any creature _Hagrid_ liked, there was nothing he could do. Absolutely nothing. Not that it would. That was ridiculous.

It didn't feel very ridiculous.

The Thestral bent its head, and sniffed at the bloodstained rope at Theo's wrists. Its tongue, black as the rest of it, flicked out, and Theo stifled a hiss as it touched his bleeding wrists. Instinctively, he flinched, smacking the Thestral hard on the nose. Its head snapped forward and Theo tried to bring his hands up to defend himself, a rather pointless endeavour given they were tied.

Impossibly, he felt the pressure on his wrists lighten, and his arms came free altogether as he rolled away. He opened his eyes. The Thestral had bitten at the bloodstained rope.

"You stupid horse!" Theo exclaimed, pushing himself upright. "You stupid, stupid horse!"  
The Thestral turned towards him, and Theo seized freedom to reach for his wand. A quick _Incendio_ set the ropes around his feet burning. The Thestrals shied away from the flame, which burnt through the ropes rapidly. In the process it set the bottom of Theo's robes on fire, and there was a lot of yelping and undignified rolling on the ground before it went out and he could stumble to his feet. As it was, his ankles felt burnt.

He kept his wand pointed straight at the Thestral, which seemed to get the point and didn't try to bite him again. Offhand he couldn't remember feeling worse in his life, but he was _free_, and _alive_, and – was that the sound of something crashing through the nearby bushes? The Thestrals were looking away from him. Theo looked around, heart-rate rocketing again. If he climbed a tree - Bowtruckles were a much better proposition than whatever was coming -

A nearby stump caught his eye. Thestrals flew. And the closest Thestral had just attacked him. Theo edged around it to another, smaller Thestral, which seemed less inclined to bite him. The Thestral seemed to understand what he wanted of it; it allowed him to lead it to the stump, even as the others spread their wings and rose from the clearing, away from whatever was coming. He stumbled jumping up onto the stump, and it took several tries to mount the Thestral, shaky as he was. But he got there in the end, and this not-so-stupid horse had enough sense to unfold its wings and be up and away after its brethren before something large and dark with far too many legs scuttled into the clearing. Theo heard the click of…pincers?

He didn't really want to know.

"Hogwarts," he said into the Thestral's ear. This was a very different proposition from riding a broom. Much less secure. "Can you get to Hogwarts?"

It turned out to be a very intelligent horse, after all, because in a few short seconds it was gliding down to land in front of the main door. Theo dismounted, prying white-knuckled hands off the thing's mane one finger at a time. Exhaustion was really setting in, now, a combination of post-adrenaline collapse and the fact that it was well past midnight.

It fitted in with everything else that night that the main door was locked. Solidly locked. He tried pounding on it, but he was too weary to do that more than a couple of times. The Thestral had taken off again. He slid into a puddle of robes at the foot of the door. Part of his brain pointed out that Hagrid's hut might yield results, but he couldn't make his body _move_.

_At least there weren't any werewolves,_ he thought fuzzily as blackness overtook him once more.

Anne muttered to herself as she drifted off to sleep. This was ridiculous; it was past two. She was going to be an absolute wreck in the morning. At least it was Saturday tomorrow.

_Here's hoping it'll be better than today. Theo can't have had much fun either, he had detention. Oh, wait, it is Saturday already…_

Outside, invisible to Anne except through the enchanted window of her dormitory, the full moon shone.


	14. Risoluto

**A/N:** Small piece of confirmation from JKR's website: Theo _was_ the boy who could see Thestrals. Now, as long as he isn't a Death Eater in HBP…

**Chapter Fourteen - Risoluto**

The first thing that Theo noticed when he awoke was the ceiling. It was white. It closely resembled that of the Hospital Wing. It was _not_ the sky, and given the last place he remembered being - to wit, collapsed on the front doorstep - that was definitely a good thing.

As more of the room came into focus, it became clear that the ceiling resembled that of the Hospital Wing because this was the Hospital Wing. The sun was shining brightly in through the windows, enough to make him squint. He appeared to be the only inhabitant. Groggily, Theo pushed himself up. He was tucked up in one of the beds, still in his school robes. Lifting his arm, he could see that his wrists were encased in white bandages. They ached dully. So did the ankle he'd managed to scorch. When he looked under the sheets, that was bandaged as well.

He rubbed his forehead, although all things considered, he wasn't feeling too bad.

_Oooh. Okay. Maybe I won't try standing up just yet. At least this is better than my dorm. Or the Forest. Or even the front doorstep, come to that. _

"Ah, Mr. Nott, you're awake!" Madam Pomfrey said, bustling in. "You've got everyone very puzzled, I must say. Turning up in the middle of the night like that instead of in bed where you should have been. Here, drink this."

She handed him a glass half-full of some sort of potion; Theo didn't look too closely before he drank. It tasted every bit as bad as that brief glimpse had foretold. Potions, in his experience, always did. The ache in his wrists eased, though.

"Who knows I'm in here?" was the first thing he asked. "I-"

"Who do you not want to know?" Madam Pomfrey said, frowning.

"My dormmates." Like their attitude towards him was any sort of secret. "I think they were responsible for where I ended up, and, you know, I'd rather they didn't get the chance to finish the job before I'm up and about."

The matron's eyebrows shot up. "Well. I see. The Headmaster asked to see you as soon as you were awake. Professor Snape did, too." She turned, presumably to fetch his execution committee.

"Don't you dare move while I get them," she added over her shoulder.

Theo leant back against the headboard, and crossed his arms. The beautiful weather outside only served to make his mood worse.

_Well, I am alive, at least…_

_…and now I have to face an inquisition, all because I had the bad taste to be the victim of a murder attempt. Oh, wonderful. _

He could almost hear Snape's biting voice in his head. _You should have been more careful - Slytherins are not victims! We do not let ourselves be ambushed! _

Theo didn't know the Headmaster well enough to have any idea what his reaction would be, but he didn't want to know. His father might call Dumbledore an old fool, and the Headmaster _had_ managed to be fired twice during Theo's time at the school - but he was still the Headmaster, which spoke of at least some competence, and still head of the Wizengamot, and still not to be taken lightly. Not to mention that Theo owed Dumbledore quite a lot for finding him sanctuary with Monique and Callum. That was a debt of honour Theo hadn't the least idea how to repay.

Dumbledore and Snape arrived perhaps five minutes later. Theo passed the time in between by checking under the bandages to see how much damage he'd actually done to his wrists. The sight made him wince. Even given the anaesthetic effects of tiredness and terror, he couldn't believe he'd managed to draw blood. Maybe that Thestral _had_ got him as well as the rope.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Nott?" Dumbledore greeted him. The Headmaster seated himself next to the bed in a sweep of robes. Snape remained standing, looking murderous, and Theo suppressed the urge to jump out of bed and run.

"Madam Pomfrey was quite upset when you were brought in," Dumbledore continued. She has had to deal with injured students in the middle of the night before, but I don't think we've ever found one collapsed on the doorstep."

"The door was _locked_." Theo couldn't stop the disgust in his voice. "I was trying to not collapse on the doorstep, but there wasn't much choice."

"The question, Nott," Snape said bitingly, "is what you were doing out there in the first place! According to your dormmates, you never returned to your dormitory last night. According to Madam Pince, you left detention at twenty past eleven. _What happened_?"

"The very question we are all wondering," Dumbledore added softly. He regarded Theo over the top of his glasses. "Madam Pince informs me that your state was consistent with struggling against ropes for a considerable period of time, mild exposure to the cold, and exhaustion. There was also mild burning on your ankles which defied explanation. And Hagrid, this morning, found some charred ropes in the Thestral clearing. With blood on them. I take it there is a connection?"

Theo's gaze flicked from Headmaster to his Head of House. Neither of them suggested the obvious, so he stated it.

"I was Stunned on my way back from detention. I woke up in the Forbidden Forest, tied up. Very securely." He hesitated. "I only got out because Malfoy was stupid enough to leave me my wand, and the Thestrals got attracted by blood when I'd half-sawn my wrists off and tried to eat the rope."

Snape's eyes had narrowed at the mention of Draco Malfoy, and the Headmaster tensed.

"You saw one of your attackers?"

Theo's mouth twisted wryly. "That would be what you could call founded speculation on my part, Headmaster. Draco Malfoy - and my other dormmates - had the means, obviously, opportunity, because no one can prove they _didn't_, and plenty of motive. They're also the only ones stupid enough to leave me my wand. Oh, and they have previously threatened retribution. Good enough, sir?"

"You cannot go around making those sort of accusations, Mr. Nott." Snape rolled his eyes impatiently. "You have no _proof_."

"Indeed, you do not," Dumbledore agreed. "One of the most important principles of justice is presumed innocent until guilty, and as much as I would like to stop your - whoever did this…even I cannot, without proof. We learned that lesson in the last war, that we could not descend to our enemies' level without becoming them."

"I'm not going to make accusations," Theo said scathingly. "I know they did it. They know I know. Everyone else will make the connections. They are shortly going to find out I survived." He shrugged. "I don't need to make accusations. Sir. They'll make themselves."

"They certainly will," Dumbledore said. "I must say, it seems a very…clumsy method of execution."  
"Nobody in my House does things clumsily, Headmaster," Snape retorted. "It was quite a well-thought out plan, given how much we drum into the students that entering the Forest is fatal. If lacking in…ah…ethics."

"Good gracious, Severus, if Slytherins worried about ethics, where would we all be?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. Snape ignored the humour, eyes going once more to Theo.

"Ethics are relative," Theo said grimly.

"That's a very depressing position to take, Mr Nott," the Headmaster observed.

"If I didn't have to, I wouldn't, sir." Theo shifted in the bed, trying to look a little less invalid and more self-assured.

"Indeed." The Headmaster's expression grew serious. "The fact remains, Theodore, that you have apparently been subject to a, if not particularly well-thought out, quite serious attempt on your life. If your suspicions are correct, as they probably are, by your own Housemates."

"You should have been more careful," Snape said witheringly _As predicted_. "You knew something like this was inevitable. We discussed it in detail. I recall warning you that Draco Malfoy was not the non-entity you believed him to be. If you couldn't do anything about this, then what about the next time? Or the next? What if there had been Death Eaters there? Luck runs out. Always. Do you have a plan for that?"

Theo was taken aback. Behind the sarcasm, and the biting anger, you could almost believe Snape cared what happened to him.

_I suppose I am his responsibility. _

_I could almost feel sorry for him, in that case. _

"Students should be safe in this school, Severus," said the Headmaster, turning to look at his colleague.

"They should be," Snape replied shortly. "And they're not. You can protect the students from the world, Headmaster - for a little while - but even _you_ can't protect them from each other."

There was something very dark behind that statement, but Theo didn't care to know what it was. Snape held enough old grudges that it was possible the darkness stemmed from someone hexing his hair pink in second year.

Dumbledore sighed, and nodded. He looked…old.

"I'll be more careful, all right?" Theo said into the silence. "Look - Professors - I can't change this situation, and I don't think you can, either. But I can…be careful." It sounded so empty, but it was the only solution that appeared to present itself.

Snape frowned, looking extremely conflicted, but eventually said, "Tell Potter's little group. Tell them what happened." The words seemed to be physically painful.

"A very good suggestion," Dumbledore said. "That will provide a measure of protection. Harry and this group he has formed…they will look to their own."

"I don't need anyone to protect me," Theo began harshly, then reddened. "Er. You're probably right, sir." At least he'd back-pedalled before Snape could say anything.

"Very well, then, Mr. Nott." Dumbledore rose. "I believe Madam Pomfrey intends to let you out in time for lunch. You…" He paused. "Perhaps you and Severus are right. All I can offer is, be careful. We will watch as much as we can, but there are limits."

"There always are, sir." Theo swallowed. "By the way. Thank you, for…for contacting my…for getting in touch with the O'Neills. I…I appreciated it very much."

"It was the least I could do to safeguard a student," Dumbledore said gently. "Especially since I seem unable to do so in Hogwarts itself. "

"Catriona and Liam's parents, that would have been?" Snape said out of the blue.

"Yes, sir. They're my cousins. Or so I found out."

Snape frowned. "Are they? I never would have…hmph. Miss O'Neill did leave before your arrival here." He shook his head. "At least some of my students make it out into the world safely."

"I'm doing my best, sir," Theo replied.

Snape almost smiled. "I'm certain of it, Mr. Nott."

Anne was early to lunch, not that she needed to be - it was always relaxing in the weekends having time to eat - but because she'd slept through breakfast and was very hungry.

_No wonder I slept in_, she thought as she sat down. _I was up half the night worrying about yesterday. _

As if to counteract her fears, the sun had been shining brightly when she'd woken, and Sarah was already gone from the dormitory. Anne hadn't seen her at all this morning, and wasn't sure at all that she wanted to. Last evening hung over her like a cloud. She'd been picked up by Ellie and Gabby almost immediately and ushered off on a walk around the lake. The weather was crisp and cool, despite the sun. It was nearing the end of autumn, after all. Anne knew that the walk was to get her out of Sarah's way - on Ellie's part at least; Gabby probably just wanted someone to talk at. But it had been nice.

_I should pay more attention to my friends_, she'd scolded herself. _Mai was right. I do spend not enough time in their world. It can't hurt. _

Coming back into the castle, she'd caught sight of Terry. Her sister had run over to check if Anne was "all right, because of what happened last night and everything." Anne had assured her she was fine, now that she knew Terry had escaped to her common room unharmed.

"Hermione Granger was really mad," Terry had said, wide-eyed. "I told her what happened, and Ron Weasley had to stop her running off to give those Slytherins detention. She said she was going to talk to Professor McGonagall about it. I hope they get in lots of trouble."

"They probably won't," Anne had had to admit. "But I'm glad people are looking out for you."

"Of course they are, they're Prefects, it's what they _do_," Terry had said. "I've got to go now, I'm meeting Cait."

"I'll see you around," Anne had told her. The comment about Prefects had struck a sore spot.

_Sarah should be watching out for us, not…whatever she's doing. _

_She thinks she is watching out for me. That's the worst bit. _

Gabby had left them to find her boyfriend when they got to the Great Hall, but Ellie was sitting down with her to lunch. It was she who noticed the commotion at the Slytherin table first.

"What's going on over there?" Ellie said, pointing with her fork. Anne was facing the wrong way, and twisted around to look.

At first glance, nothing appeared to be happening. All Anne could see was Theo, just seating himself at one end. She caught his eyes, and he gave her a half-nod. Nothing else…wait. The Slytherin seventh years, several seats down from where Theo was serving himself just a little too casually, looked pole-axed. Or some of them did. A couple of the girls were looking in puzzlement from Theo to their classmates and back. Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, Anne was pleased to note, fell into what could be called, for Muggles, the "seeing ghosts" category. As did Draco Malfoy. Across and down a bit from Theo, Estella Haywood spoke to him; Theo replied with a half-shrug. His sleeves shifted back a fraction. Anne narrowed her eyes. Were those bandages on his wrists?

Ellie tapped her shoulder. "Anne? Do you know why they're staring like that?"

"No," Anne said, turning back. "No idea. Just…hmm. Never mind."

"None of that," Ellie retorted. "Never mind just means you'd rather not talk about it. Spill."

"I told you about those Slytherins, last night." Anne busied herself with her lunch. "Well, I thought I saw bandages on Theo's wrists, and they're staring at him like he rose from the dead…maybe I wasn't the only one who got a visit. And maybe I wasn't the only one who had a lucky escape."

"Hmph." Ellie digested this piece of information, handing the salt to Dave Hewitt. "I think it might be safer if you stuck to groups, from now on."

"I think so, too," Anne agreed, sneaking a glance back at Theo. He looked normal enough. Just pale. "No more slipping off to the practice rooms by myself."

Mai seated herself next to Ellie, slightly breathless. "Why not? What's going on?"

"Where've you been?" Ellie asked.

"Racing Sarah back here." Mai grinned. "I won. But where's she go- oh." Her gaze fell on Anne. "Yeah. How're you, Anne?"

"Fine." Anne looked down at her plate, wishing she could lose herself in the bustle of the Hall. "Well - you know. How's Sarah?"

Mai and Ellie exchanged raised eyebrows.

"_Sarah_'s just on one of her I-am-mature-and-wise-and-know-better-than-you bents. You were the one who ran out of the room cr- you were the one who was upset." Mai's diplomacy was slipping, today.

"Do you think -" Anne began awkwardly. "Do you think she might talk to me?"

Mai looked flustered. "Er - leave it a little while, maybe. She's not - she - you know how she is."

Anne nodded glumly. Sarah was Hufflepuff to the core. Her loyalties were fierce, and her grudges lasted for months. And months. And _months_. "I see."

"S'alright," Ellie said. "It's just - I mean, I can see where she's coming from, she's just going overboard a bit. She'll come round."

_Just a bit._ The words were bitter. Anne swallowed another bite of steak-and-kidney pie, instead.

When she got up to leave the table, Ellie halted her with sharp words. "Where are you going?"

"To talk to Theo - look, he's just leaving. I'll be in the Hall. There's people _everywhere_. I'll be fine."

"All right." Ellie subsided into her seat. "But you shouldn't go anywhere by yourself."

"I won't," Anne promised, and even meant it. Sort of.

"I think we need to talk," Anne said when she caught Theo at the door, almost in unison with his "Can I have a word?"

They stared at each other for a moment, then grinned, and set off for the practice rooms. Or so Anne realised when they got to the fourth floor and her mind took stock of where her feet were going. It had been occupied.

"How's your week been?" Theo said as they climbed the stairs.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, until last night." Anne glanced at a suit of armour wielding a fearsome pike. They hadn't been menacing for the last five years, why should they seem so now?

His head whipped around. "What happened last night?"

It was comforting, seeing Theo look anxious for _her_. "A couple of things. Sarah - well, things are going from bad to worse. Worst, even. And then a couple of Slytherin seventh-years decided to…I'm not sure what they had in mind, but Terry turned up just in time."

"Terry saved you?" Theo's eyebrows shot up.

"Terry yelled at them, and they got distracted, and I got away." Anne looked around guiltily. "Actually, I'm surprised some teacher hasn't come to tell me off about that yet."

"What did you do?" Theo's grin was feral.

"Nothing very much." She lowered her voice. "But I'm sure you're not supposed to Stun people in Hogwarts."

Theo snickered. "No, I don't think so." Then his face fell. What was behind that?

They'd reached the fourth floor by now; Anne swallowed when they came to the portion of the corridor she'd been - she'd been attacked in last night. Her steps quickened unconsciously. Long-legged Theo didn't seem to notice.

"And your friend Sarah?"

Anne shrugged. Not his business, she'd told him once, and that still held, in a funny way.

"I'm being…difficult. Sarah doesn't like difficulties. She tried to lay down a few ultimatums. She's a prefect, so she thinks she has to be right, all the time, to back that up…so now she can't back down, and I won't."

"You _are_ stubborn, sometimes."

Anne tilted her head. "So I should agree to never speak to you again, then?" It won another smile, this one slightly more strained. What on earth had occurred last night?

They had to go past the first three rooms, which were occupied (or, at least, the doors were shut) but the fourth, the piano room, _their_ room in Anne's head, was mercifully free. The click of the door shutting behind them could shut out the world, as well. For a little while, until (as it always did) the world slipped in behind them and turned promised escape into just a longer way of reaching the same place.

Theo sat down on the room's only chair as soon as the door shut, and to Anne it looked more than a little like a collapse. He pushed his hair back off his forehead in that familiar gesture of tension. His sleeve slid down to reveal bandages wrapped snugly around his wrist. The way he grimaced when he lowered his hand suggested they were there for a reason.

Anne crossed to the piano stool, not even needing to ask the question.

"I had a run-in last night, too," Theo began unprompted. "It was, um, supposed to be a bit more permanent than yours. I was…lucky. Very lucky."

It was what she'd been expecting to hear (since the beginning of term, truth be told) but Anne still felt a chill cloaking her.

"What happened, exactly?"

Theo took a deep breath. "I was coming back from detention last night, and I got ambushed in the corridor. I was careless. I was _stupid_, thinking it was safe just because it was late and I was tired."

"You're not the only one," Anne admitted. "Half the reason Bulstrode and Parkinson found me is that I was upset and not looking out."

He smiled grimly. "Yes. Anyway, I woke up tied to a tree in the Forbidden Forest about one am. Needless to say I wasn't too happy about it. I managed to saw my wrists half off trying to get out."

Anne couldn't just sit there any longer. She started to get up, but Theo forestalled her.

"It's okay." He re-seated himself on the stool, next to her. Anne immediately wrapped an arm around him, picking up his left hand to examine the injured wrist carefully. A dark line of blood was beginning to seep through.

"You need to go back to the Hospital Wing."

"Later," Theo said carelessly. "It's not important." He reached up with his free hand to brush her hair back behind her ears. It lingered there; Anne leant her cheek on his shoulder, savouring the quiet touch. It sounded like the rest of this story wasn't one she really wanted to hear.

"So how come you're here?"

She could feel Theo's chuckle. "Luck, I told you. Some of Hagrid's Thestrals turned up - they smelt blood, I suppose - and tried to eat me. They started by chewing on the nice blood-soaked rope. Malfoy left me my wand. Typical arrogance from him. I managed to get out of the ropes, then I borrowed one of the Thestrals and got out of there."

"You rode on a _Thestral_?" Anne lifted her head to look at him incredulously. "They're invisible!"

"Not to me." He _was_ looking pale. She was used to the circles under his eyes, but they were pronounced today (or they were at this distance, anyway.)

"Oh, yes." Anne laid her head back down, signalling him to go on.

"Anyway, I got to the front door and it was locked, so I sort of collapsed on the doorstep. And that's it. I woke up in the Hospital Wing, Snape and Dumbledore came and told me off for being careless, and then I came down to lunch."

"We're supposed to be safe here." Anne didn't want to look up and see Theo's face. She could deal with him arrogant, annoyed, angry, contemptuous, blank, sarcastic; Theo under the weight of all this, she didn't want to see. Not again. She'd seen it far too much.

"Somehow I don't think Malfoy and his cronies care very much about that."

"They looked…startled."

Theo chuckled. "Oh, weren't they just? I didn't actually accuse them to their faces, but they know I know. If they do try again, they'll be far more careful."

"Why them?" Anne, despite herself, could not help speculation. "Why not Death Eaters in the forest, or -"

"I'd bet anything the Dark Lord has decided to leave Hogwarts students to Hogwarts students, since I'm not really a direct threat to him like Potter or his friends are. Not to mention it's a way of proving _their_ loyalty, since I'm a Slytherin. Call it luck; we're not important enough to warrant actual competency."

"Luck? This is bad enough!" She clutched his hand, closing her eyes. "It's not…ah, not fair, but nothing ever is."

"Look at it this way." He pulled his hand away, but only to put an arm around her. "The worst has happened, right? And now we're forewarned. I made a - I decided quite a few things, last night, so now I'm going to go through with them."

Anne had to pull back and look at him at that.

"Like what?"

She got an interesting reaction. Theo opened his mouth, closed it again, frowned, hesitated, and eventually said "Oh, things. Good resolutions, and all that."

"Such as?" Anne allowed herself a smile. At least Theo was still easy to tease.

He smiled crookedly. "You'll see."

She started to ask when, but Theo shut her up by kissing her. It was a very effective way of saying a whole lot of things Anne couldn't quite articulate, like "I'm really worried, thank God you're all right, if anything ever does happen to you I don't know what I'll do."

"Was that a resolution?" she asked when she got her breath back.

"No, that was just a good idea," Theo told her.

"No it wasn't," Anne contradicted him.

He did look hurt. "Why not?"

"You stopped."

"Not a problem."

It was a very good way of avoiding what they should have been talking about, Anne knew, but it was also a very distracting one, until Theo hissed and grabbed his left wrist. Anne had to disentangle her fingers from his hair, but she could see that the blood she'd noticed earlier was leaking out the edge and down his hand.

"Here." She pulled out a handkerchief to wipe it off.

"Thanks." Theo made a face. "Maybe I should have listened to Madam Pomfrey."

"What did she say?"

"Not to move my wrists too much."

Anne snorted. "Yes, you were following that closely. You should go back to the Hospital Wing."

"I should." He gave her a meaningful look. Anne stood up and pulled him to his feet.

"You _are_. Before you bleed to death."

"I wouldn't mind," he said hopefully. Anne laughed. "Come on."

He insisted on walking her to her common room before he went up to the Hospital Wing, on the grounds that she was less able to defend herself. Anne pointed out that it was the middle of the day, she had managed just fine, and _he_ was the one who'd been ambushed, but to no avail. Chivalry was a virtue, Anne supposed. Of a sort.

The revelation must have affected her more than she'd thought. Ellie asked her that evening why she was being so quiet. Anne just shrugged and muttered something about Sarah. Then Gabby said "But Anne's always quiet!", and Mai agreed, and the conversation had turned to other things.  
Anne leant back in her chair, staring into the fire.

_So. It's started. And Theo's okay, but he's not, and I'm okay, but I'm not, and Hogwarts was safe, but it isn't, and it's all one horrible trap that I can't ever escape from no matter where I am, even in here, because of Sarah…if I didn't have Theo, what would I do?_

_If I didn't know Theo, none of this would be happening. _

_But not knowing Theo isn't worth it. I could not, and go back to quiet and safety and ignorance and being "just Anne" in the corner to everyone. Just another dead Muggle-born, maybe. No, it doesn't stop short of this war. And what am I in the DA for, but this war? _

_This bloody war. _

Amidst the tension and fear (and mountain of homework as the holidays approached) there was one bright spot. Terry ambushed Anne in the library one Sunday afternoon with good news.

"Anne, Anne, I got a letter for us, you have to come and read it!"

Madam Pince shot an impatient glare in her direction, and she lowered her voice, shifting from foot to foot with excitement. "Come on!"

"Where're you sitting?" Sarah inquired. She shot Anne a worried glance. "Anne can't go off by herself these days."

Being watched over was surely a mixed blessing, Anne thought. Despite everything, Sarah had been dragooned into doing her share of guard duty. It didn't mean she was _talking_ to Anne, but it did mean that any Slytherin wouldn't get within ten feet of her without Sarah noticing. That included Theo. Sarah's latest inspiration, doubtless from Gabby, was to accidentally bump into half the boys in their year while Anne was with her. Today's victim was Sarah's ex-boyfriend and fellow prefect Jeremy, who was sitting across from Anne. In compensation, it was darkly amusing. Sarah didn't like Jeremy very much anymore. She had to be desperate.

"I'm just over there with Cait and Alex and Jake, why can't she go anywhere?" Terry pointed to a table in the corner where three second-years could be seen arguing quietly. Or possibly not. Gryffindor discussions had the tendency to resemble arguments even when they were amicable.

"I won't be going out of your sight," Anne put in, standing hastily. Anything to get away from the circling tensions of Jeremy and Sarah's mutual dislike, Sarah's anger at her, her own discomfort at Jeremy's presence and resentment of Sarah, and everything else.

"I suppose she'll be okay." Sarah peered over at Terry's table, probably waiting for Theo to spring out of the woodwork. Anne was dreading the day when Theo showed up while Sarah was on guard. It would be hell trying to get away from her then. Why did she insist on pretending Anne didn't exist when she was only here because Anne was?

"Come on!" Terry grabbed Anne by the hand and started pulling her towards the corner table. Oh, and Mum said in her letter that you haven't written back and she was wondering why."

Anne grimaced. "Work. Life. Er…stuff. I'll try and write tonight." Perhaps she had been neglecting her letters home a little bit. If _Theo_ could manage them, she surely could.

"Why did Sarah say you couldn't go anywhere?"

"Those Slytherin girls. You know. She's worried about me."

"I don't like her," Terry announced loudly enough to make Anne look around at Sarah. Fortunately, Sarah was talking to Jeremy. Miracles did occur.

"Why not?"

"Theo said she doesn't like him. And she doesn't talk to you."

Anne bit back a grin over the irony of Terry disliking someone because the person in question disliked Theo. "You didn't use to like Theo very much either."

"I changed my mind." Terry pulled out a chair at her table for Anne. "Anne, this is Cait McDonnell and Alex Archer and Jake Oram, you remember them, don't you?" The people in question - fellow Gryffindors of Terry's - gave her chirpy greetings. Terry did seem to attract people like herself.

"Yes, I have," Anne said, sinking into the chair. "Hi, guys."

"Look at this!" Terry grinned as she shunted the letter that had her so excited over to Anne, who took it obediently.

She frowned at the shaky handwriting. The first part looked like it was written by a eight-or-nine year old, but who -

"_Another_ letter from Nic and Eddie?" she said out loud.

"Yes!" Terry was practically jumping out of her chair. "I told you they'd write again!"

The contents of the letter weren't that important. Just telling them what Nic and Eddie were doing, and asking about life at Hogwarts. But the fact of the letter at all…that was a surprise, and a good one. Anne had glumly expected her brother to give up after one, since he'd sounded so uncharitable in it.

_…so you can see nothing much is happening here. I hope life isn't too exciting for you - it sounds like that wouldn't be good. Write to us soon. _

_Eddie _and Nicola

_PS _I miss you. Come home for Christmas soon._ See you then. _

"That's nice of them," Anne said slowly. "Did we write back to the first one? I can't remember."

"I did. You didn't. Eddie said he stopped writing ages ago because you never wrote back," Terry informed her blithely, innocent of the pointed attack in the words. "_We_ should write back to them."

_They wrote again anyway, when I never bothered… Is this a peace offering? I'll take it, then. I miss them, here, but not as much as I missed magic when I was at home, because I'm used to them being away, but not used to the absence of magic; and I need these reminders of my family and what they mean to me. I need these reminders that there is more to me than the person I am here, because I remember with the summers and forget with the other seasons. I need you to accept what I am, Eddie, and I need you to be there for Nic. Thank you for trying again, even if I didn't bother. _

_I suppose I can learn something from him, after all. _

"That's the letter from your brother, isn't it?" asked the girl Anne thought was Alex. "Mine never wrote to me when he was at school. You're lucky"

"We are," Anne agreed. "Look, Terry, I should get on with my work, but do you want to meet me here after dinner on Tuesday and we'll write the letter?"

"Can't on Tuesday, I've got detention." Terry had the grace to look guilty when Anne frowned. "It was an accident, really…"

Jake rolled his eyes. "Terry, you can't hex someone by accident."

"You what?" Anne raised her eyebrows.

Terry squirmed in her seat. "Well, there were these Slytherins, see, and they were calling Jake and me…things, and, er, there was sort of a fight, and Professor Snape sort of caught us." For a moment, she looked plaintive. "He's never given _me_ detention before."

"That's only because you like Potions and no-one else does. I think it was a House record." Cait sniffed. "He hates Gryffindors."

"Hey, you're in Harry Potter's DA, aren't you?" Jake asked Anne, turning to her.

Anne nodded. "Yeah."

"Wow." He looked very impressed.

"I really do need to get back to Sarah," Anne told Terry apologetically.

"Okay," Terry agreed, looking relieved. "I'll see you on Friday."

"See you then," Anne said, getting up. Sarah frowned at her when she got back to their table. "You took a while."

"I'm not a child," Anne snapped back, startling herself. For some reason, it worked; Sarah blinked, opened her mouth, and closed it. Jeremy looked disgruntled at Anne's return.

_Please tell me he's not stupid enough to try dating Sarah after fourth year. _Anne shrugged mentally. None of her business, and it might get Sarah off her back. Right now she needed to concentrate on writing half of a letter she should have written years ago, and not the lurking idea that asserting herself to Sarah, also years ago, might have stopped Sarah deciding that she could make Anne's decisions for her. She'd seen what asserting herself to Sarah got her, and it was this frigid silence.

_If only I could write a letter to _Sarah_ explaining this. As it is…_

_…as it is, I don't know what will fix it. _


	15. Fugue

**A/N:** Last chapter before Christmas. Unless I suddenly decide to post on Christmas Eve, although you never know. It's amazing, really. I'm actually posting a chapter about Christmas _during the Christmas season_. What next?

**Chapter Fifteen - Fugue**

Anne was of two minds on the journey home from Hogwarts for Christmas. On the one hand, she wanted to see her family, and she missed home, and it was…Christmas. That was what you did. Not to mention the promised escape from the constant worry and circling doubts that made up such a large part of her life at present.

On the other hand, Hogwarts might not be entirely safe, but it was safer than home. And Theo looked so depressed as everyone around them made plans to go; his sardonic shrug at Ernie Macmillan's hearty wish for a good holiday at the last DA meeting had been louder than words. He was trapped by himself at Hogwarts for the first time in his life. She knew that he hadn't been allowed to take up an invitation from the O'Neills to stay with them. But she couldn't stay, not now.

Coming home seemed like a much better idea when she was ensconced on the couch with a cup of cocoa, watching Nicola watching the presents under the tree. Her father's sister and her family were arriving from France tomorrow morning, so Christmas Eve and Day would be taken up with extended family, but for now it was just Anne, her parents, and her siblings in a place where almost all her worries couldn't last. Knowing danger was out there was one thing, but the thoughts were quickly banished when you were helping put up all the decorations you'd known since forever, or being taught by Eddie how to make mince pies (when had he stopped to learn _that_?) or letting Nic show you the carols she could play on the piano.

"Listenlistenlisten," Nic said in one breath, "I can play _Deck the Halls_ too!"

"Not _another_ bloody carol," Eddie said, obviously less entranced by the warmth and light of home "You've played us most of the book!"

"Just this one," Nic said, beginning to pout.

"Be quiet, Eddie. We're listening," Anne told him. "Go on, Nic."

Nicola rolled back her sleeves and frowned at the keys through her new glasses. She was _most_ unhappy about the necessity of wearing them, but had little choice. Anne could have kicked herself for not noticing over the summer that her inability to tell the time was due to bad eyesight, not bad clock-reading skills.

Anne sang along to the carol, played without a single wrong note (if not in quite the right time) and threw a cushion at Eddie when he began to sing the alternative words about burning down the school. Nic, of course, giggled and joined in with his version.

"_…_aren't you glad you played with matches," Terry could be heard as the front door opened and closed, "Falalalala, la la la la!"

Nic beamed at the piano. "See, I told you I can play it!"

"Very good." Anne leaned over the side of the couch to give her sister a half-hug. "You've been practising a lot."

"It's been awful. Every day," Eddie agreed.

"Well it's probably better than you were on the violin," Terry said, tossing hat and gloves at him as she came into the living room. "It's freezing out there. I wish we could do warming charms. You're so _lucky_, Anne, you'll be able to do magic at home this summer."

"I won't need warming charms in the summer," Anne reminded her with a smile. "But I am quite looking forward to that, yes."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "That's the last thing we need around here, you throwing spells everywhere."

"You're just scared." Terry flopped onto the couch next to Anne, pulling out her wand and pointing it at Eddie. "Boom! Hah! You're dead."

"Terry, don't do that!" Anne reacted instinctively, snatching the wand away.

Terry whipped around. "Hey! You can't do that!"

It was a huge breach of wizarding protocol, Anne knew, but -

"Give it back!" Terry lunged at her.

"Anne, what's all this about?" Their mother stood in the doorway, apparently drawn by the noise. "Give whatever it is back to Terry."

Anne hesitated, then gave the wand back. "She was pointing it at Eddie, Mum. It's…not good."

Mary Fairleigh shrugged. "You're not allowed to use magic at home. It can't hurt."

Anne felt her shoulders stiffen. "No! It matters. It matters so much, I -" She folded her arms, frowning. "Say….say Terry was good at shooting. And she had a loaded gun. And she pointed it at Eddie, but the safety catch was on. Would _that_ be okay?"

"No," her mother said cautiously, "but this is just your magic, Anne, it isn't a gun." Terry smirked.

Anne sprang up off the couch. "_There is no such thing as just magic!_ Do you know why Terry had her wand with her at all? Because she went outside, and outside is dangerous, now, and that…that stick of wood, to you, is a weapon for us. You can't see it, but it is."

Eddie, of all people, spoke up. "Mum…Anne's right. In summer, when that Death Eater or whatever tried to find us - I saw her point a wand at him and speak one word, and he was knocked out cold. I don't like people pointing weapons at me. Even my little sister. _Especially_ my little sister."

Their mother frowned. "Well, then…don't do it again, Terry. Did you have a nice time at your friend's house?"

"Yes, Mum," Terry said meekly, glancing at Anne. She knew she'd crossed the line. "It was fun. Can I have some hot chocolate too?"

"You know where the kettle is," their mother told Terry as she left. "We'll be having dinner in about an hour."

As soon as she'd gone, Terry transferred her ire to Eddie. "What do _you_ know about magic? It's none of your business."

Eddie gave her a cold look. "Because I'm a _Muggle_?"

"Anne," came Nicola's plaintive voice, "do you think I'll go to Hogwarts? I still haven't done any magic."

Anne folded back onto the couch. Nicola looked so small…but she wasn't anymore. Almost nine, sitting there on the stool peering out through her new glasses. They made her look older and younger at the same time.

"Probably not," Anne said finally. "You…no. No, Nic, you won't."

It had been Theo who'd advised her to say that, back in August, but Theo wasn't the one who had to watch her little sister's face crumple.

"I didn't think so," Nic half-whispered.

"What's the matter, Nic?" Terry dropped her cheerful snapping match with Eddie in favour of her little sister.

Nic sniffled. "Nothing."

"Come here," Terry insisted, patting the couch between her and Anne. Nic complied, huddling up into a small heap.

"Eddie, I'm not going to be a witch," she said in that same brave tone bordering on tears. Anne put an arm around her, heart twisting with guilt.

_I shouldn't have said that. _

_I should have said it earlier. _

_I should - _

_I don't know. _

Eddie shifted in the armchair, shrugging. "I…I guessed, Nic. Don't you want to stay with me?"

"Yes, but I wanted to be magic too!" Nic wailed, and Anne could hear in her voice the echoes of her brother, a complaint voiced once and never again.

_So, I'm not going to your school, huh? I would've got a letter by now. _

_I_ _suppose not. Eddie. I wish you could've. I don't want to go off alone again. _

_I wanted to_. _But you'll be fine. You're braver than me. _

It was the first and last time he'd referred to that wish. Now he smiled sadly.

"Nic…so did I. Sometimes life just sucks."

"We still love you, Nic," said Terry. "Magic's not important. It's…It's Christmas. Stuff like that's important."

"Eddie, come over here too," Nic ordered. He obeyed. The couch wasn't really made for four people, and he had to squeeze in between her and Terry, who leaned across him to hug Nicola as well.

"Nicola," Anne murmured in her ear, "Terry's right, okay?"

Nic nodded slowly. "You and Terry aren't mad?"

"Nah," Eddie said, "They're just jealous I get you all to myself. You don't want to go to Hogwarts, anyway. Anne's boyfriend goes there."

"Was that your friend Theo, Anne? I liked him." Nic wiped her sleeve across her face.

Anne grinned at Eddie. "See, _Nic_ has good taste."

"And you don't," he retorted.

"Are you okay now, Nic?" asked Terry.

"Yes." Nic frowned across the room at the clock, then tried to jump off the couch through Eddie, Anne, and Terry's assorted arms. She didn't get very far. "Let go, I have to turn the TV on, I want to watch the movie tonight!"

"Mum didn't say -" Eddie began.

"She did, I heard her." Terry bounced up. "I miss TV at Hogwarts. See, Nic, it'd be awful with no TV."

"What is it?" inquired Eddie, leaning back on the couch and releasing Nic, who was quite content to remain seated now the television was being turned on.

"Some Christmas movie." Anne got up. "I'm going to go finish my Christmas cards."

Terry was stretched out on the floor. "Don't forget dinner."

"I won't." Anne paused in the doorway. Nicola was snuggling up to Eddie on the couch, who seemed to have overcome his antipathy to emotional displays enough to let her.

_I always knew she wasn't one of us…_

_No! No, I'm not thinking that, it doesn't work like that!_

_Doesn't it? _

But the lights were shining on the Christmas tree, and it was the season of goodwill and peace, not deep philosophical thoughts. So Anne went on upstairs to write her Christmas cards, and her worries were lost in the sound of her mother singing _Joy to the World_ as she cooked.

* * *

Theo had never stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas before. Nor was he particularly enthusiastic about this, his first Christmas there. He hadn't really expected to spend it anywhere else, but still…  
His hopes had risen and just as quickly fallen with a thunk when he'd got a letter from Callum just before the holidays.

_Monique is up to her ears in legal papers, _he'd written_, but she wanted me to tell you that we tried to get permission for you to come to our house for the Christmas holidays. Professor Dumbledore decided that it would be safer for you to stay at Hogwarts, given the situation, and we had to agree. But we thought you'd like to know that you would have been very welcome. As it is we've managed to get all our children over for at least part of Christmas day, an unheard-of feat, especially with Liam drawing double duty with this war on. _

Theo had written back politely (…_Thank you for the invitation, even if I can't take it up; I would have loved to come_) but it was just another thing that wasn't fair. He'd seen Anne and Terry piling into the carriages with trunks, breathless in the snowy cold, and felt the force of habit and hope pulling him out the door back towards home. Logic told him that home wasn't there anymore (or that it wasn't _his_ home) but logic wasn't working. He wanted to be able to walk up the driveway and see his house ablaze with light; to walk in, and find his father sitting in front of the fire. He wanted to go back and look at all the things he'd half-forgotten and fix them in his memory. Was it the table to the right or left in the attic that had the names carved into its legs? Was the old panelled oak door, the last original one left, in the entrance to the kitchen or the scullery exit? Did his mother's photograph hang above the piano, or had it been on the opposite wall? Little things, tiny things. He had lived in that house for fifteen years. He should know them. He couldn't remember, and it terrified him, that loss of what should have been more deeply engraved in his mind than music, the memory of his home. Even Monique and Callum's house, as warm and welcoming as it was, would have been a pale imitation of home. That led to another resolution, one of so many he seemed to be making at the moment. One day, he would see it again. No matter war and guilt and memories of betrayal; one day, he would walk through the front door into his house again.

One day, he'd show Anne around it. One day.

Promises to yourself were easy. It was the doing that was hard.

He flitted around Hogwarts like a ghost, enjoying the freedom. Every other Slytherin in his year had gone home for the holidays, to do what, he didn't like to speculate; but they were gone all the same, and the dormitory, for two blessed weeks, was his. Revenge on them, as much as he'd wanted it, had proven impossible through sheer weight of numbers (watching Blaise struggling in Ancient Runes without Theo's shoulder to look over didn't count. As amusing as it was.) The atmosphere in his dorm had been even more chill than usual, with the knowledge of the attempt and failure present and unspoken. Overhearing furious speculation as to the manner of his escape was also quite amusing. But now…he could go to sleep at night without testing his wards - clumsy, but enough against other seventh-years. He could walk into the common room and not have to plan his route based on where everybody else was. He was safe, for a time, and it seemed impossible that six months ago this safety had been something he took for granted. Simply impossible.

After one or two days, however, the freedom began to pale against the echoing corridors. Less than twenty students remained at Hogwarts (everybody wanted their families around them, now) and none of the ones who had stayed were people Theo particularly liked. They were all younger, or Muggle-born, or Gryffindors. Membership in the DA did not make Theo anything more than a passing acquaintance of Potter and his friends. Theo had never been a great proponent of the general cheer and good-will that was supposed to accompany Christmas, at least, not openly, but this year it was like clutching smoke. The singing suits of armour and Christmas decorations became vaguely irritating rather than atmospheric, a thin cover over the ugly realities of the war. Theo put off wrapping and sending presents until two days before Christmas, simply to avoid having to think about where he _wasn't_. Even his eight-year-old cousin Lucas would have been welcome, and that really told him it wasn't a good year. Perhaps it was just part of growing up, and the magic of Christmas died with your childhood, but Theo preferred to believe that somewhere out there (away from safety, away from loneliness) Anne's family and the O'Neills' and maybe even the Amberleys were wrapped up in the warmth and light of family.

Or not the Amberleys, with Paul in Azkaban. Another family torn by this war, and whose fault was that but his?

Theo woke up on Christmas morning to the still-strange silence, cards and presents at the foot of his bed - stranger, in a way - and, strangest of all, some nebulous but definite feelings of goodwill and peace. He lay there in bed for a moment, trying to analyse them, and then decided to put it down to the fact that it was Christmas. Even in the wrong place and with the wrong people.

"Merry Christmas," he said to the empty dormitory, climbing out of bed. "And let's hope it's a happy new year."

There were only five other Slytherin students still present - Estella Haywood, who was disturbing at the best of times, third year twins, recognisable only because of that, a first year, the worried-looking plump boy, and a second year , all near-total strangers. Theo chose to open his presents in his dormitory, sitting cross-legged on his bed and setting the cards out neatly on his bedside table. He'd have to put them all away at the end of the holidays, but for now they made a nicely festive display ranged over his Charms textbook, the alarm clock, and a stray comb.

There were cards from quite a few people, ranging from Catriona O'Neill (_Wish you could have been here, there aren't enough Slytherins in our family_) through Terry (_Have a good Christmas, Nic says hi too_) to Ernie Macmillan, (strongly reminiscent of the official cards all Ministry workers received from the Minister. Probably sincerely meant, even so.) The best one was naturally from Anne (_I'll wish you a truly merry Christmas and a new year, a happy one of course, but mostly new. I'm looking forward to sharing it with you. With all my love, Anne._) It accompanied - he laughed when he saw it - the collected works of William Shakespeare, with a collection of bookmarks _(so you can mark all the plays you like _, a note said) and an inscription on the frontispiece told him it was from Anne and Terry, "since you like quoting at us so much." Monique and Callum sent a collection of photographs "that we thought you'd like copies of", mostly his mother, but a couple of himself as a baby with his cousins, and a pen-knife "since I remember breaking my nibs every three minutes during exams," Callum wrote. "Alternatively, you can stab Death Eaters or peel potatoes with it." Theo practised flicking it open and shut, thinking wryly about ropes and a certain night in the Forbidden Forest. The scars on his wrist had faded to barely visible pink lines, but he was not eager for a repeat of the experience. He might have learned from it, but he had a feeling Malfoy would have as well. Catriona had sent a Holyhead Harpies T-shirt (_might as well pass the freebies on, right?)_ He seriously considered wearing it down to the Christmas dinner, but decided against it on the instinctive grounds of camouflage.

The new-born happiness was fragile, but fortunately Christmas dinner - at one table in the middle of the hall, since there were less than forty attendees even counting teachers - did nothing to harm it. It was mildly odd sitting next to Ron Weasley, of all people, but they managed a reasonable exchange about Quidditch. It turned out that Weasley, for unknown and probably ridiculous reasons, was a rabid Cannons fan. Typical. Theo suspected the Gryffindor boy still felt some gratitude for the…incident about Hermione Granger's parents last year. It was something he would prefer to forget, but if it smoothed the situation, it was good for something.

"Having a good Christmas, Nott?" Estella Haywood asked that evening in the common room. Theo was curled up in one of the armchairs, ostensibly reading, but really staring at the fire in a peaceful doze that would have been impossible during the term.

"Not so bad," he told the sixth-year. "Not so bad, really."

* * *

He spent the first morning of the new year curled up in his dormitory reading and paying attention to his nice new copy of Shakespeare, enjoying the luxury of a room all to himself. As much as he wished Anne had stayed for the Christmas period, or that he was at home with his father (foolish, lost dream) it was pleasant to be able to sleep without watchfulness, to be wholly himself in a place where that had not been possible for years. Breakfast in the Great Hall had shown that the blinding snow and wind of the past few days had not let up, which made lying on his bed reading in a warm dormitory even better. Around lunchtime, he decided to amble back to the common room and on to lunch, with perhaps a view to playing some piano in the afternoon.

All that considered, he was in a pretty good mood when he got to the common room. Spotting a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ lying on one of the tables, he decided to delay lunch and leaf through it. The news was never pleasant reading these days - not with Anne outside Hogwarts' safe walls - but Theo could check the Quidditch rankings and see if the Cannons-Harpies game had finished yet. At this rate they were going to set a League record for length. The Cannons were being thrashed, naturally, but the Snitch remained elusive.

He settled back into one of the armchairs. The common room was pretty much deserted, between holiday absences and the hour of day. As he lifted the paper an image flashed into his mind of his father sitting in the living room at home, reading the paper. Theo wondered if he- no, no wondering. No brooding. There was no point.

The headline was enough to twist his stomach, a near-repeat of last New Year's (and the accompanying memories of his father were also not to be thought of.) He was about to turn the page - more dead, more broken, the war went on, he was safe, and it was Wales, not Essex - when a name caught his eye. _… Gabrielle and Clara, students at Hogwarts…_ Wasn't Anne's friend called Gabby? A sixth year, and a Welsh accent, if he recalled correctly, wrapped around the most inane babble…further investigation added the entire family. _Present at the house that evening for a New Year's gathering were Winifred and Madoc Hayle, their daughters Gabrielle and Clara, Mr. Hayle's son by a previous marriage, Richard, Richard Hayle's wife Janet, and their children Evan and Leonora. Janet Hayle had taken her son Evan home before the attack as he had a cold. The pair were fortunate to escape. Aurors say…_

Theo's hands clenched so hard the paper tore. Janet Hayle. His _cousin_ Janet Hayle, and her children, bright Leonora and jumpy Evan.

It couldn't possibly be true. There was no way that flippant Lee, cheerful Lee, scarcely three years old (hadn't Monique written about her birthday?) could have fallen victim to a Death Eater attack. Nor was it possible that wry Jan could be mourning this snowy morning the deaths of her husband and daughter, parents-in-law and nieces. Barely more comprehensible that she could be alive because of a cruel(merciful?) trick of fate, that on that night of all nights her son had been ill and she had taken him home early…

"Why are you mauling my paper, Nott?" Estella Haywood's voice was an unwelcome intrusion. Theo lowered it to meet her flat grey stare. So much like Malfoy's, and Draco would rather kill himself than admit their relationship, because halfblood cousins were too much to contemplate.

"Your paper? Fair game left lying around here," he countered, avoiding the issue entirely.

She wasn't to be dissuaded. "Oh, of course. But what's got you tearing holes in it?"

Theo carefully unclenched his hands and folded the paper into his lap, smoothing out the tears. His appetite for the sports news had fled with his appetite for food.

"The front page. So hard to guess?"

The sixth-year shrugged. "Nothing out of the ordinary, for these days. You don't care about the front pages, usually."

Fellow member of the DA she might be, but the old game of truth and deception was ingrained in Slytherin House…but Theo no longer cared. Later he would, but not at this moment, when a child with fewer years than feet in height lay cold and still, a child who'd insisted on throwing herself at him for a hug the last time he'd seen her.

"Relatives. You know how it goes."

"Relatives?" Haywood narrowed her eyes. "Relatives who aren't out there hooded and masked?"

"How do you think I survived the summer, Haywood?" he threw out obliquely. Maybe the habits were too ingrained. He felt suddenly tired. "Leonora Hayle, if you must know. She was _three_. Merlin, how do they justify it?"

Haywood shrugged again, apparently satisfied with the information. "You know better than I do. Bastards. They'll pay."

Theo tossed the paper aside and stood. He didn't want to stay any longer in the common room with this unnerving girl who had transferred all her fervent allegiance to being accepted by Malfoy into bringing him down, and anyone associated with him. Theo wasn't sure if it was ambition, determination, or hate, (and he didn't really care) but it unsettled him. Caring that much about what people thought of you was a trap he was afraid of walking into. Nor could he accept the inborn dislike Haywood directed him for being pureblood - when she had wanted acceptance, that was - and for being a Death Eater's son now she had rejected it. He headed blindly out of the common room, intending to go to the Great Hall. He was walking into the practice room before he noticed where he was going. He reached the piano stool just before his knees gave out and he half-collapsed onto it, staring very hard at the wall and trying not to tremble.

_Lee. Oh, God, Lee, they can't, it's not fair, she was three and she was sweet and talkative and I can remember her and Evan jumping off the couch at me, and Jan telling them not to, she can't be dead, she can't be, it's not fair I lost them all my family and I got some back and they can't take her away they can't touch them can't can't can't_

Theo sprang up from the stool to pace, because moving was better than sitting and letting the thoughts go round and round and round -

_- and Jan, I liked her, she's so much like Callum, quiet and funny and now she's going to have that funny blank look Dad had after Mum died, and Callum and Monique, and Catriona, and Liam who I haven't met, all of them, it's not fair it's not supposed to happen to my family that was supposed to be my consolation, I lost my family but they were safe all of them safe it's not FAIR! _

That jolted him back into reality. Madam Pomfrey was not going to be impressed if he turned up with a broken hand, not after his wrists, and slamming his fist into a stone wall wasn't a good way to avoid that scenario.

He leant back against the wall, cradling the hand against him and trying to get a grip on his racing thoughts. The room helped. The battered furniture and piano were old friends. Discarded minims lay scattered in the corners, along with the smell of dust and laughter. For six years it had been a refuge. It was a refuge now from the jagged edges of thoughts that threatened to scar the calm forever.

_So. Jan's husband is dead, and Lee is dead. And Anne's friend Gabby, if there isn't another Gabrielle in sixth year. I can't find Anne to talk to her because she isn't here. I have to deal with it myself, until she gets back and - just until. Less than a week. Four days. So what do I do?_

_What have I always done? _

With no music and a throbbing hand, it wasn't precisely easy, but he pulled tunes out of memory and coaxed them out of the piano, stretching his hand slowly. He started with the simplest of all, and moved through tunes he knew better than himself. It was a long time before he could pull himself slowly back out of the music, and wipe his face with his sleeve, and contemplate, staring at the battered wood of the piano, what he was playing for: not just a child he'd met twice, and the grief of family he was still learning to know, but for the family he'd put behind him, and the war that was tearing them all apart, and even, when you got to the bottom of it all, for the simple wish that he could go home and it would be all better again.

All of that, down at the core: but still, and just as truly, for Leonora Hayle, age three, who he would have liked to know, and for the Jan and Evan he never would now that their daughter and sister, their husband and father, were dead.

And another voice, barely a whisper:

_This is what you left and why…was it me, or was it chance? _

There were lines you couldn't cross, and if he knew that Lee had died - had been killed by -

_There are plenty of other Death Eaters, you don't know, you can't know, he wouldn't do that! Not Lee, not his great-niece, even by marriage, not a three-year-old -_

A colder voice.

_This is why I had to leave. _

_I wish I'd known you, Lee. _


	16. Legato

Chapter Sixteen - Legato

It was times like these Anne wished she'd never started getting the _Daily Prophet_. She was used to it being a herald of woe, but until now it had never heralded _her_ woes. Other people's, sometimes dangerously close, but never quite touching her.

Luck always ran out, she knew that.

It wasn't supposed to run out today.

It was the first morning of the new year, 1998, a fresh start and a fresh hope; she was at home, she was safe with her family, Theo was safe at school, all was well with the world and her dull headache when she woke had absolutely nothing to do with the two and a half glasses of wine she'd drunk last night amidst the confusion and cheer of a neighbourhood New Year's party. However, her pounding head was unconvinced of this theory, so Anne slunk down to the kitchen for an aspirin, a drink of water, and breakfast. If she could bring herself to face breakfast.

Terry was sitting at the kitchen, having apparently heard the owl with the paper first. Eddie was at the toaster. Her parents were, sensibly, still in bed.

"G'morning," Eddie mumbled.

"Mmm," Anne replied, and started rustling through the cupboard for the box with the various medications. "Terry, weren't you trying to make Headache Potion yesterday?"

"In the fridge, the blue stuff in the glass, one teaspoonful in a glass of water," Terry said. Her tone was oddly flat.

"Are you sure you want to drink something _she_ made?" Eddie said.

"Terry's good at Potions," Anne said, pulling the glassful of viscous blue liquid out of the fridge. "Pass a teaspoon?"

It didn't look much better when mixed with water, but from experience it worked faster than aspirin, and Anne did trust her sister this far. Even she had managed to make this stuff in Potions class, so Terry should be an expert.

"Anne, what's Gabby's last name?" Terry said, still in that strange tone. Anne put it down to lack of sleep.

"Hayle. Her sister Clara's a year ahead of you in Gryffindor. Why d'you ask?" Anne grimaced at the glass, then drank. It was sort of palatable.

"They got killed last night," Eddie announced absently. "Why does this toaster always take so bloody long?"

Anne choked on the potion. It was fortunate she'd almost finished. There was little left to spill out when the cup clattered from her hand to the bench.

"You're joking," she said, staring at the mess. The pale turquoise looked out-of-place on the pale Formica. "You're joking."

"Nah, why would I?" Eddie sounded puzzled. "It's in the paper. I thought you didn't like her very much."

"Eddie, you're horrible!" Terry shouted. Anne paid little attention. She couldn't take her eyes of the liquid shining in the early morning sun, forming one two three drops falling off the bench. She was dreaming, of course. Real life didn't go on like this when someone died. Surely there had to be tears, outrage, anything but Eddie's matter-of-fact voice and the distant buzz of Terry's scolding.

"Whoa, you two, it's a bit early for that sort of thing," Anne dimly heard her father say. "Keep it down a bit, your mum's still asleep." Footsteps crossed the kitchen. The cup had stopped its rolling on the bench. Circles. Her mind was going around in circles. It was easier than turning around.

"Anne, what's the matter?" her father said over her shoulder. "Let me help clean that up." A hand came into view, with a paper towel, wiping up the last of the potion. "Here, what's wrong, love?"

Anne finally pulled herself together enough to take the paper towel off her father and finish cleaning up. She picked up the cup and took it to the sink to rinse. Her hands weren't even trembling. Much.

"Bad news," she said, still not turning. "Eddie said a friend of mine...her family were attacked."

"Oh, Anne." A hand was laid on her shoulder. Two years ago, three, it would have promised protection. "Who was it?"

"G-Gabby Hayle." She dashed her sleeve across her face. She _was not_ crying. "S-she's in m-my class, and she...Dad, it can't be true!" She turned around, finally, but only to walk into her father's embrace.

"Eddie, you are such a git!" Terry could be heard announcing in exasperation.

"What was I supposed to say?" he replied defensively.

Anne had abandoned all hope of pulling herself together. It was too hard, and too much easier to let her father hug her and mutter reassurances that she barely heard through the tears. Her headache had faded to a dull murmur. Eddie and Terry were silent, either through embarrassment or sympathy.

"Can I see the paper?" Anne said after what seemed a long time had passed. She pulled away from her father, who handed her a paper towel before she wiped her face with her sleeve again. He guided her to the table with a hand on her shoulder.

"A good friend of yours, was she?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. Well -" Anne paused to blow her nose. "I room with her. She's not - not a really close friend, not even the closest out of all my dormmates, but...I liked her." The exact words eluded her, as Gabby now did; how did you explain that you found someone annoying, exasperating, silly, but also good-natured and funny? How did you explain that even a girl you would barely know if she were in another House or year mattered because you had spent six years sharing classes and meals, homework and stories with her?

_How can she be _dead_? Not Gabby. She's pure-blood, for a start, she never has understood the war, she's too normal to die..._

The article was clear enough. Just another attack, just another family gone. Anne remembered the mixed distaste and fear on Gabby's face when she'd spilled out the source of her vague antipathy towards Muggle-borns. It seemed her father's willingness to forgive and forget had brought down death on them. It didn't seem fair that Gabby should have been right about that danger.

Some of the other names in the article caught Anne's eye, too, but she couldn't quite place them. Janet and Richard Hayle, Evan and Leonora...she knew she'd heard those names before, but where and when, she couldn't say. She wondered how the unknown woman Janet must feel, having been saved by such a capricious trick of fate. Would it be worth it, to lose that much and still live?

"Would you like a cup of tea?" her father asked, hovering over her shoulder. "Coffee? Ovaltine?"

"I don't drink coffee, Dad, you know that," Anne pointed out, folding the paper so the front page faced away from her. She didn't want to look at it any more. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she folded them on the table in front of her. Thin winter sunlight was streaming in the window through a gap in the clouds, half-blinding her. It looked to be an unsettled day of sunshine and cold winds. A headache day, she had called them when she was small, the type that left her feeling like she'd never quite woken up and the world might dissolve around her at any moment. Well, the headache was fading with Terry's potion, but the dream-state wasn't.

"It's always hard when deaths come like this," her father said. Eddie had slipped out of the room; Terry, uncharacteristically quiet, was applying herself to toast and the paper.  
"They're not supposed to. We're not supposed to die. Not...not now, not this soon. She was seventeen."

"It's times like these I wish you'd never heard of Hogwarts." Jonathan Fairleigh sat down beside her. "Kids grow up fast enough as it is. This is...too much."

"I wish I'd never heard of Hogwarts sometimes, too," Anne said. It was only half a lie. She felt tears rising again, and dashed them away. "We shouldn't have to be afraid."

"But we don't _have_ to be," Terry said, looking up from her toast. "I'm not scared. Not much."

"You're very brave, Terry," their father told her, smiling.

Terry pursed her lips. "No, I'm not. Being scared's just silly. If things happen, they happen. Besides, it won't happen to us."

Anne exchanged glances with her father.

"I hope you're right," she said.

Her father picked up her hand and squeezed it. "Are you going to be all right, love?"

"Yes. I'll be...I'll be fine." How many times had she told Gabby she was fine, brushing her off? She'd never have to do that again. No more questions, no more prying, no more chatter and laughter and gossip...

"I'd better take some tea up to your mum, then." The kettle clicked, as if on cue. "Sure you don't want a drink?"

"I'm...not really hungry, right now. Or anything."

"If you're sure, then."

"Mmm-hmm." Anne nodded, still staring at the window. The sunlight had moved on, now, to another patch in the torn and tossed clouds. An unsettled day.

_Mai will be scared, Ellie will be silent, Sarah will be patient, Gabby will say something tactless-_

_No. No, she won't, will she? No more stupid comments ever again. _

_Maybe Sarah will go back to normal if this gives her enough of a shock - _

Anne quashed the thoughts. She couldn't be thinking about any advantages coming from her friend _dying_. What did that make her, a Slytherin?

_Hah. Hah. Gabby would have thought that was funny. _

_Oh, Gabby. Oh, this can't be. _

_It's not fair. _

Terry offered her the Muggle paper, but Anne refused. She'd go and have a shower, and think, and try to...try to...something. Maybe if she wrote some letters.  
Something.

She sat cross-legged on her bed for a long time after her shower, paging through the photo album her grandfather had given her for Christmas, the one she'd spent the last few days putting her photos in. She didn't have all that many from Hogwarts, but Gabby was in most of the ones she did have; a very normal girl. The black-and-white photos couldn't show the chestnut colour of the hair she would toss over her shoulder, but they could show the ready smile and the plumpness of early adolescence transmuting into prettiness. They showed Gabby, almost alive and yet not. It was a wonder that somewhere Gabby was lying cold and still, but here in these squares of heavy paper she would forever chatter and laugh. True magic, which did not dull the pain but made it worse. After a time Anne set the album down. The dreaminess of the unsettled day was an overlay that numbed her, but the resentment she felt was starting to become overpowering. Why Gabby? Why not someone else? Why someone_ Anne_ liked?

_Why touch my life again? _

Throwing her pillow at the wall wasn't going to help anything, so Anne picked it up, replaced it on the bed, and got out her flute. Something to keep her hands and mind busy for a while. She could go downstairs, too, but she didn't feel up to people quite yet.

_Gabby never heard me play the flute. It was all a joke, to her. Just a joke. Did she ever understand? _

_If you can hear me, Gabby, try and understand now_.

The silver notes whispered out the window and were tossed on the chill winds. Sunlight illuminated the album lying on the bed. In front of a fire, Gabby Hayle tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed, as she'd done when the photo was taken in October.

_If you can hear me, Gabby, please understand. _

* * *

Theo knew he'd been right about Gabrielle Hayle the first time he saw Anne after the Christmas holidays. There was a hollow look to her eyes and a nervous tilt to her head that hadn't been there before. He knew, too, from the way the Hufflepuff sixth-years clustered together, one brown-haired girl's absence as visible as she herself would have been. The returning students arrived back at Hogwarts the night before classes started again, so he didn't have a chance to speak to Anne before she was lost in the crowds.

The real surprise was the absence of something he'd been expecting. He had spent his last day of freedom returning all his belongings to the safe confines of his trunk, and adding a few creative booby-traps to the protections surrounding it in anticipation of renewed attempts on its contents. He was already at the stage of making his own bed, as the house-elves were apparently unable to get to it through the wards. It did mean no warming pans on cold nights, but it also meant safety, and that was worth shivering.

When Draco Malfoy swaggered into the dormitory, Theo was sitting cross-legged on his bed, purposefully ignoring him. He knew what to expect; the sneer, the smirk, the reminders that Theo should be able to see his own fate in his cousins'. The sneer was there. The sarcasm that failed the standards of wit quite considerably was also present. The comments were not.

"Feeling a bit lonely, Nott?" Malfoy's eyes were probably glinting with malice. Theo didn't bother looking up.

"I can't say I do, Malfoy. The holidays have been quite relaxing."

"You watch out," the other boy hissed. "You were lucky once. Not again."

There must be a draught in here. Theo could feel a cold breeze.

"You must be bored," Theo observed.

"Huh?"

"You're talking to me." He glanced up. "Or am I fit to speak with decent Slytherins, now? Do tell me if I am. I like to keep track of these things."

"You're still nothing," Malfoy spat. "You're still dead."

"As I believe Potter once commented...you'd think I would have stopped walking around."

The exchange of insults was interrupted by the entrance of Blaise Zabini. Theo felt mildly disappointed. There was quite a lot of fun to be had baiting Draco Malfoy, and the mention of Harry Potter should have been good for a two-minute rant, at least.

"Had a good holiday, Zabini?" Theo inquired. Blaise's right hand moved unconsciously to his left forearm, and Theo stiffened. "I see. A pity."

_And here I was hoping I'd be able to use what he wasn't. Yes, that is a pity. _

Zabini remained expressionless. "They're having a prefects' meeting at eight o'clock, Draco. Something about new curfews. Pansy asked me to tell you."

Malfoy grimaced. "Great. I have to go listen to the Weasel and the Mudblood natter on."

Blaise glanced at his alarm clock. "It's five to eight, Draco."

Malfoy swore and stalked out. Blaise remained in the room a moment longer, weighing up Theo with his gaze. Then he turned and left.

Theo shut his book with a snap. That had been...odd. He'd expected at least one of them to make veiled - or outright - comments about L- about his cousin and her father's deaths. There had been nothing. The usual arrogance, but nothing he could pin down. It was almost as if they didn't _know_.

_They don't know_.

It had the force of a revelation. Of course they didn't know. Or, at the least, _Malfoy_ didn't know it mattered to Theo. They couldn't get to his letters, they didn't know where he'd stayed, they didn't...

..._they can't have attacked Catriona because of me, then. _

_That's...something. Monique and Callum are safe. Or as safe as they can be at the moment. _

It couldn't resurrect Lee or her father, but it was a small comfort. Better to think about that than the painfully formal phrasing of Monique's reply to his just-as-awkward letter. _Thank you for writing. We are as well as can be expected. Jan was very grateful that you wrote, but she is still in quite a lot of shock. I hope your holidays went well, otherwise.._. Or the more honest and, in its own way, more painful one from Catriona. _I know you didn't write to me, but I've been helping Jan around the house and I read your letter by accident. Jan's in a state, as can be expected, but being herself she keeps trying to _do _things when it's perfectly obvious she can't. Evan keeps asking where Lee and Richard are, which doesn't help her at all. We've been very lucky, so far; maybe the odds were against us and something like this was always going to happen. At least you're safe where you are. Forgive the rambling, I should know better, but writing seems to focus my thoughts..._

Family. Too painful to live with, and impossible to live without.

_Thanks for writing, _Theo wrote back to Catriona. _It means more than you might think. _

* * *

It was several days before he got the chance to talk to Anne, and it surprised him how small she looked. Theo knew she wasn't very tall (it was quite noticeable when...at times, anyway.) The practice rooms, where he'd always seen most of her, were low ceilinged compared to the rest of Hogwarts (low-doorwayed, too, a source of endless annoyance and occasional pain when you were over six feet.) Maybe that had made her seem taller. Maybe she really had shrunk in the aftermath of her friend's death.

"Did you have a good holiday?" was the first thing she said, summoning up a smile.

"Christmas was all right. New Year's was bloody awful," Theo said bluntly. "About the same for you, I suppose."

The smile vanished. It hadn't taken much.

"God, Theo," she said wearily, "it's too close. I mean, why Gabby? There must be hundreds of other people with half-blood relatives. _Hundreds_. And it's Gabby. She was always so sure the war wouldn't happen to her, it made _me_ believe it wouldn't. Why...I'm sorry, you don't have the answers to that."

"I wish I did," Theo said awkwardly. "I wish you did."

She tilted her head. "Then that..._was_ that your cousin? The one you talked about? Leonora?"

Theo nodded. "Yes. I...they...funny, wasn't it. We're such an inbred bunch, all us pure-bloods. Never would have thought that my cousin's husband would be your friend Gabby's brother. Not that there are very many Hayles, but even so. Strange." He was rambling. Almost as bad as writing letters.

Anne reached out to hug him, but he wasn't sure if the embrace was for his comfort or hers.

"It's not fair." Her voice was muffled in his shoulder. "I keep saying that, and I don't know why, because of course it isn't, life isn't, I should know that by now, but I keep thinking that if I complain long enough Gabby will come back. And your cousin, too, I suppose. I didn't realise I even liked her very much until now, and now I can't tell her."

"I know." He relied on Anne so much to make sense when the rest of the world didn't, and now she was as adrift as he was, and that was wrong. "Lee...it's funny...I only met her twice. She was almost three. I don't know if you can miss that much about a kid that age. But I miss that I'm not going to get to know her growing up. I suppose I miss...who she would have been. As much as who she was."

"You didn't meet her father at all?"

"Once." Theo shrugged, resting his chin on Anne's head. "He was okay. But I was feeling a bit dazzled by all the family, and he wasn't, well, not blood family, so I sort of concentrated on trying to make sense of my family. Even though I know Callum pretty well, now, and he's not blood family either. But I was there for ten days. It's just...Richard Hayle was just a normal adult. Lee was a kid, and my cousin, and so...it seems worse. Adults are dying all the time, these days. I'm sorry for Janet, and Evan, more than for him."

Anne sighed. "Yeah. I suppose...you've lost more family there. They won't be the same. They can't be."

Theo smiled at the wall. Anne was making sense of things after all.

"No. But they're alive."

Anne sighed, again, and pulled carefully away. She perched herself on the table, wincing as it creaked. Theo leant himself on the wall beside it, quite happy to watch her sitting there dangling her feet, a short fair-haired girl looking ghostly white in her dark school robes. He owed some deity a vote of thanks, for causing him to follow after her two years ago. It had taken a special combination of boredom, curiosity, and intransigence to make him go after a Muggle-born. Amazing how the smallest things could change your life so totally.

"It's funny," Anne began, then shook her head. "We've been saying that a lot."

"Funny, that," Theo said gravely, earning himself a combination of admonitory stare and smile.

"What I meant," Anne started again, "is how the little things matter so much."

_She does read my mind. On Merlin's grave, she does. _

"I thought, when I saw the paper...your cousin, Janet Hayle. The odds of her not dying were so small. An attack on a house where she was. But just because her son was sick, just because she took him home at one particular moment...she's alive."

"It was more complicated than that, Catriona told me. Evan was being naughty, and crotchety, so Jan decided to take him home. Then he threw up, when they got back - explaining why he'd been out of sorts - so Jan spent a while cleaning up and putting him to bed. Then she made a Floo call to tell the others she couldn't come back. And there was no one there. So she Flooed back to the house, and..." Theo swallowed uneasily. He remembered the one person he'd seen die, seen dead; how much worse, to walk from one room to another, and see the people you'd left alive half an hour ago lying broken and gone.

Anne sucked in a sharp breath. "I - that would be hard." Her eyes were dark. Theo could imagine what she must be seeing. He'd seen it in nightmares, twice, Lee's tiny body lying bruised and cold. Anne would be seeing her friend.

He nodded, trying to shut the images out. "Jan's pretty hard-headed, from what I saw of her - one of your House, you know -" Anne raised inquisitory eyebrows at that "- but Catriona wrote that she was...not functioning very well. It's...hard. Monique's letter sounded pretty grim."

"And it's not hard on you?" Anne said softly.

He shifted against the wall. "Yes. No. I.... I'm looking in, from the outside, because I didn't know them enough. But they matter, still. It's not my...my problem, except it is. That makes no sense whatsoever, I know."

"If it hurts, it's your problem." Anne laughed, bitterly, staring down at the floor. "Gabby...I keep seeing her. I keep wondering whether they just killed her, or, or...I don't want to know. But I can't stop wondering. I can't say anything to the others. I keep seeing her looking surprised, because she would have been. She looked so incredibly daft when she was surprised. I...dreamt about it. Three times, now. Except it's not always Gabby."

"Those dreams." Theo knew them. It started with Lee. It never ended with her. Monique and Callum had been there, and Jan, and Catriona, and Evan, all of them. Because they were her family. Once, Terry, and then...that nightmare had woken him, and he'd had to force himself to lie back down, to sleep. Some visions were worse than others.

"Did your Head of House talk to you?" Anne asked. "Professor Sprout talked to us. And Hannah Abbott, and Ernie Macmillan. Because they're prefects, I suppose. Everyone's being very...nice."

Theo snorted. "Do you really see Snape being consolatory?"

"Possibly not," Anne allowed.

"He...did speak to me. There wasn't very much to say."

"There never is."

"Ernie and the others spoke to me, too. In Charms." That had been...odd. "I told them, of course, they didn't know...nice is a good word. I keep wondering why they bother. Any of them."

"Ernie?" Anne said carefully.

Theo scowled. "Well...I have to call him something."

"You do." She smiled, almost impishly. "They bother because they like you, you know. Well, Megan Jones thinks you're arrogant. But the DA lot, I heard them talking, they do like having you around."

"I can't imagine why." Theo blinked. "All I do is, sort of, well, be there. And occasionally say things. I'm not really, a, a group person. I just like being able to be around people who I...don't dislike."

"An odd way of defining friendship. Then again, I suppose I'd use it, too."

_Friendship? I wouldn't...I only see them in class. And at the DA. _

_And you talk to them. And even joke. Occasionally. _

_Well, it's one way of describing it. _

_Although I think that Ernie Macmillan in more than carefully regulated doses would result in insanity. _

"Maybe you could say that."

There was silence.

"I didn't imagine the war could get this close," said Anne, after a time. "Everything's...dying. Even the music, sometimes."

"You can play for them," Theo said, eyes flicking towards the piano.

"You can," Anne agreed. "But I'm not sure where the music goes, after that. Right now I've come to the end of it. There has to be a reason, and fun isn't right for now, and forgetting is even worse."

"Forgetting seems like a very good idea," Theo said roughly. "But it only works for a little while. That's not long enough."

"It never was," Anne said. "It never was."

* * *

Anne had never realised how talkative Gabby actually had been until her death forced Anne to notice. The gossip and talking had formed a sort of background hum to large portions of Anne's life at school. Its absence was disturbing. Mai tried in vain to fill it, but her voice would thin out in the silence and cease. It could be anywhere. Anne could be sitting in Charms, or at breakfast, or walking down a corridor, and she'd see or hear something that triggered off once more the dreadful thought. _Gabby's dead. Gabby's gone. _

She found herself trying to erase the change. If she joined in the other girls' conversations, or paid attention to the gossip, or tried to get on with Sarah, maybe that would make Gabby's absence less noticeable. If, if, if. The success of that tactic made her stop. It was frightening to remember Gabby at the end of a day and think that her death was already fading into the past, already becoming part of how things were instead of how things shouldn't be. A day became two days, and two became three, and by the end of January it seemed as if Gabby had never been there, ad if her existence among them had been a dream. As if Chris Cullen's sombre face was caused by something else; as if Sarah's awkward sadness was truly because of her fight with Anne; as if that fifth bed in their dormitory belonged to a stranger whose life had never been part of theirs. Life was too busy, too filled with work and the DA and music and Theo and everything else, to spend much time mourning Gabby. It was a river sweeping her on, and Anne hadn't even noticed the current until now.

So she didn't get up and leave when the conversation did drift to Gabby, as uncomfortable as it could become. It would have been disloyal to sweep her under the rug when time was going to do that anyway - when time was already doing that. In the sulky grey days of January, the reminiscing was both painful and necessary. And she had been right; it forced Sarah to soften towards her. Anne hated the idea that she was profiting in some way from Gabby's death, so the relief that caused was effectively negated by the guilt it brought with it.

"She would have hated the Quidditch being cancelled," Ellie commented one day, staring at the mantelpiece. "She loved going and screaming herself hoarse."

"I hate the Quidditch being cancelled," Mai grumbled. "Nothing's _happened_. They can't stop things just because the Death Eaters _might _attack."

"It's best to be safe," said Sarah with a frown. "Too many students have been killed already. If they did try to attack a game -"

"They're not that stupid," Mai retorted. She fingered the notes on her lap nervously. "They aren't, are they?"

"It's sort of a moot point now the tournament's off," Ellie said.

"Gabby would have thought that was the stupidest thing of all," Anne observed softly, "the Quidditch being cancelled because of the war. She never believed anything could ever happen to her. Other people, of course, but never Gabby. She was just normal."

"Oh, she was scared." Mai's lips compressed. "She didn't like to say it to you, Anne, but she was worried stiff about her father making peace with his first wife, with her being Muggle-born and all."

"I knew that." Anne wrapped her arms around her knees. She was sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, trying to study for their Transfiguration test. "I hated thinking that she might be right. I hated that she died because she was right."

"It's so stupid that it should have been Gabby," Sarah said. They were rehashing old ground now. "I mean, she was the kind of person who you'd expect to live to be two hundred, because she didn't believe she could ever get hurt, and die in bed with lots of children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren -"

" - having married someone really rich -" Ellie smiled.

" - and spent her life spending their money," Sarah finished. "Yeah, that sounds like Gabby."

"I never would have said that." Mai leaned back on the couch. "I always thought she'd end up being the gossip columnist for the _Daily Prophet_, and spend her time writing scandalous articles about who all the Quidditch players were going out with."

"And she'd be right." Anne shook her head. You could smile about it, in a way. "Because she was always right about that sort of thing, dammit. Even when she was just joking about how I must've had a Slytherin boyfriend, in the end it turned out that she was right."

"Remember how she spent the whole summer term of fourth year trying to get Chris to notice her?" Ellie leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Sarah, in her armchair, unfolded her arms. "He was so thick about it."

"He's still thick," Mai said after looking around. "A bit, anyway."

"Can you believe they were still going out?"

"They were good for each other," said Sarah firmly. "I can't think that they ever would have broken up."

"I think Gabby would have got bored, sometime," Mai said. "No-one ever goes out with their boyfriend from school forever. Not their boyfriend from fourth year, anyway.

_What about fifth year? _was the thought that sprang unbidden to Anne's mind, but she didn't say it. She'd never thought about whether she and Theo might ever break up. It was one of those possibilities that was probably logical, because Mai was right, but had no value in real life.

"She would've not studied for the test tomorrow," Anne said out loud, "and then got up at four o'clock to study and recited theory at us all through breakfast. And passed."

Ellie chuckled. "You know...that annoyed me so much. The reciting theory bit. But it was useful, y'know? It helped me remember things."

"I keep thinking she's going to turn up any minute," Sarah said into the silence. "You know, she's just in a broom closet somewhere with Chris, or in the library, or something, and she'll walk in and I'll ask her where she's been. I keep looking for her. I keep thinking there's someone I've missed, someone I'm not looking out for, and it's Gabby..."

"Then don't try to ride herd on us so hard, and you won't think that," Ellie commented acidly, then relented. "Sorry, Sarah, that was horrible."

"Ah, you know you were right." Sarah shook her head. "I try to play parent to all of you, and it's getting too hard...oh dear. Did someone put Veritaserum in my pumpkin juice at dinner tonight?"

"We won't hold it against you," Anne told her.

Sarah's eyes narrowed. "Don't think I've changed my mind, Anne. Gabby agreed with me."

"Gabby wasn't sure. Gabby didn't know. Gabby thought it was sort of cool, and a bit wrong, and very confusing, that I'm going out with Theo. But you're not going to change _my_ mind, Sarah." Anne decided not to remind Sarah that she'd promised not to talk to her. This amiability was too precious, too fragile.

"You're so stubborn." Sarah sighed. "You're not supposed to be. You aren't. And now you are."

"Gabby wasn't," Ellie said. "She just never got in anyone's way."

"There were plenty of times she was in _my_ way," Anne surprised herself by saying. "Just because - well, she liked to talk all the time. And talk, and talk, and talk."

"I miss her talking," Mai said moodily. "I'm so behind on all the gossip. She kept me up to date."

"I don't." Anne snapped her mouth shut. Sarah was right; someone must have drugged dinner. "I miss her, but not that."

"De mortui nil nisi bonum," Sarah advised. "Anne, it's not nice to say things like that when someone's dead."

Ellie snorted. "Why not? It's the truth. Is that too hard, Sarah?"

"It's not too hard." Sarah frowned. "Just unfair. Gabby can't defend herself."

"I wouldn't have said those things to Gabby," Anne said. "That wouldn't have been fair."

_What hypocrites we all are. Imagine what the world would be like if we all told the whole truth all of the time..._

_Yes, Ellie, it would be too hard. I don't think I even tell Theo the _whole_ truth. _

Not that she could think of any times she'd lied to him, but telling someone everything...it would take too long. It would be too hard.

_Or do I? What haven't I told Theo?_

_That I'm afraid, too, so afraid, that death is coming too close to me but his fear is worse and I can't lay mine on him as well..._

_The things we do in the name of love._

_Oh, my God, I did not just think that. _

"Anne?" Ellie tapped her on the shoulder. "Anne, are you listening?"

Anne jumped. "No. Sorry. What was that?"

"What were you thinking about? You looked strange."

"Things I didn't say," Anne replied. _Half-truths. Again. _

Ellie, nodded, thinking she understood. "I think we've all got a few of those."

"Yeah." Mai wrinkled her nose. "Like Gabby, where are the damn Snap cards, because I lent them to you last!"

Anne couldn't help laughing, or at least smiling, with the others.

"I've got some," Ellie volunteered. "Game, anyone?"

"Let's," said Sarah, sliding down onto the floor. "I think we've been depressed enough for one night."

"Right-o." Ellie rose, stretching. She stumbled on her first step. "Ow. Pins and needles."

Anne looked across at Sarah, who, for the first time in months, met her eyes. "You're still wrong."

Anne shrugged. "I'll take my chances on that. But...I'm not disloyal, Sarah. Ever."

Sarah took a deep breath. Mai was watching them with narrowed eyes.

"I...that was sort of harsh. I suppose...if the seventh years are friends with him...maybe...he might not be on _their_ side."

Anne nodded. It was enough. It was...more than she'd expected.

"But I can't imagine why you'd want to be his _girlfriend_." Sarah made a face. "He's still a Slytherin."

"Excuse me," Mai said, joining them on the floor, "at least Anne's not snogging her ex-boyfriend in broom closets." She added, as Sarah went red, "One she said, if I remember rightly, she would never talk to ever again if Death Eaters were torturing her."

"I had to talk to Jeremy, we were on patrol together," Sarah said stiffly.

Anne bit back a grin, wondering why she hadn't heard about this sooner. Oh, dear. It was going to end in tears again, she just knew it.

_I didn't hear because Gabby would have told me sooner..._

_Gabby, Gabby, Gabby. _

_So you were a friend, after all. _


	17. Marcato

A/N: According to their front page, is undergoing upgrades in the next three weeks. I'll try not to let this affect my updating, but considering last time, there is a probability it might. 

Thanks to everyone who reminded me about my Pince/Pomfrey error in the last chapter – should be fixed now. Talk about silly mistakes…

Chapter Seventeen - Marcato

Theo shut the door of the practice room carefully behind him, scanning the corridor. No one. Wait - no, it was only Terry. He caught up with her in a few strides.

"What are you doing here by yourself?"

She jumped. "Oh! Theo. I didn't see you."

"Gryffindors. So brave you don't stop to think," Theo said scathingly. "What if it hadn't been me?"

Terry shook her head defiantly. "I would have been fine. I wasn't by myself, Alex was here, but she forgot she hadn't finished her essay and she went back to do it. I don't go places by myself, I'm not _stupid_ you know."

"No, really?"

Terry scowled. "Not funny."

"My apologies." Theo smiled. "You're out late."

She looked at her watch. "I've still got ten minutes before curfew, and I was going back anyway. Why are you going back? Your curfew isn't for ages and ages and ages."

Theo shrugged. "I'm not, I'm going to the library to study. Besides, I wasn't really...I've got a test tomorrow."

"You weren't really _what_?"

"Playing. I was reading a letter. Not much point in that."

"Lots, if it's from your family. Is your cousin okay? The one whose daughter got killed."

"She's...not as bad as she was." That was putting the best face on it, from the letters he'd got. Jan had not struck him as someone fazed by much, but according to Monique, she was only slowly reassembling the shards of her life. Evan was what was keeping her going.

"Was the letter from her?"

"You're very nosy, you know that?"

"Well, was it?"

"It was from my mother," Theo said, just to shut her up. It worked.

"But your mum's _dead_!" Terry exclaimed. "What-"

"It was one she left to be sent to me when I was this age. It...I've read it enough times. I should stop."

Too hard, when he hadn't heard from his father in six months - well, of course he hadn't - when he had this last, fragile link to his parents. Reading it was chilling and made him feel better, at the same time. She'd been so wrong, and so right, and...it was false hope to cling to a statement of unconditional love when he knew it wouldn't have been true if she'd lived. Would it?

But she hadn't, so it was an anchor.

_Let the dead stay dead. This is your life now. You can't get her back. _

_I can pretend. _

"If my mum was dead and I had a letter from her, I'd read it lots too," Terry said stoutly. They'd reached the end of the corridor. "I'll see you 'round. "G'night, Theo."

She paused, then tugged on his sleeve, pulling him down for - strangely and touchingly - a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "

"Uh," she made a face, "You've got scratchy cheeks like Dad."

Theo lifted an eyebrow. "Most males do in the evening, I understand. It's a bit inconvenient to shave twice a day."

"Well, you should," Terry retorted.

"Too bad," Theo told her. "You won't get anywhere in the world by making demands."

"We'll see." Terry smiled. "You're going to be okay, aren't you?" she added anxiously. "With your cousins and everything."

Theo wasn't sure what answer he wanted. Surely Terry didn't need reassurance from him.

"Of course. Are you sure you're going to get back to your common room safely?"

She shrugged his question off. "I'll be fine by myself. I'm not three or anything."

"I don't think so," Theo said firmly, making up his mind, and found himself escorting a second-year Gryffindor back to her common room to make sure she didn't get attacked by any of his Housemates. Which was truly bizarre. Terry insisted he leave her at the end of the corridor - "There isn't anyone hiding behind the statues, and if you see where our common room is they'll kill me."

"Behind the painting of the Fat Lady, I know that, but I'm sure you can walk ten metres by yourself," Theo said, ignoring her outraged gasp at this casual spilling of sacred Gryffindor knowledge. He paused. "At least, I hope you can."

"Oooh, Theo, you..." Theo took the opportune moment to walk away, leaving Terry nicely fuming.

"You are _so_ mean, Theodore Nott!" she called defiantly after him.

"My heart bleeds!" he called over his shoulder. "No, don't poke out your tongue, you're too old to do that!"

Her frustrated hiss was quite audible. He smirked. Teasing Terry wasn't a very nice thing to do, but it was so damn tempting.

* * *

"Are you still upset about Gabby and all that?" Terry said to Anne one evening in the library. Anne was pretending to do homework, but mostly whispering to her sister. Mai was down the other end of the table, head-down in her books.

_No escaping the surveillance. _

"Things like that don't just go away, Terry."

"'Cause you don't _seem_ very upset anymore. I mean, that's not bad or anything, you're just normal again. And so is Theo, well, sometimes. Sometimes he sounds upset but it's sort of hard to tell. He's not very normal anyway. But mostly he's being like he usually is."

_Not so hard to tell_, Anne thought. Theo was still upset. And paranoid. With good reason, of course. She wished this year could...go back to what it had been. Something. Anything. She didn't know how much longer Theo could deal with the mire his life was currently in.

_I don't know how much longer I can, sometimes. _

"What is he usually like? Sparring with you?"

"Yes." Terry made a face. "He's like Eddie."

Anne snorted. "He's _nothing_ like Eddie. For goodness' sake. Where did that come from?"

"I dunno." Terry shrugged, doodling on a spare scrap of parchment. Constellations were forming, unnoticed. "He seems like Eddie to me. Um...sort of...like what he says to me. That kind of thing."

_He acts like an older brother_, Anne translated, _and he teases me like one too. _

"That's nice," Anne said aloud. "You two didn't get on very well last year."

"It's not nice." Terry bestowed a disgruntled look upon her. "I don't like being annoyed."

"You like Theo."

"I don't like Theo when he's annoying me." Terry smirked. "Anyway, you're the one who _really _likes Theo..."

Anne noted with surprise that she did not snap, blush, drop something, or even feel anything past wry amusement. "You'll have to try harder than that, Terry."

Her little sister rolled her eyes. "You are so not fun anymore, Anne."

Anne swatted her lightly on the shoulder. "Uh-huh. Have you thought about what subjects you're doing next year yet?"

Terry leaned back in her chair. "No. See, I asked Theo, and he says I should do Care of Magical Creatures because then something might eat me and we'd all be better off, which is stupid, but I might do it anyway because I like going out doors. And he said I should do Divination because I'd drive Professor Trelawney bats. So I'm _definitely_ not doing that."

"So was there any useful advice in all of this?" Anne leant forward on her elbows. "I like Arithmancy, but I think you'd get sick of all the numbers."

"No _way_ am I doing that." Terry chewed on the end of her quill. "Theo did say that Ancient Runes was fun if you were patient."

Anne grinned. "Cross that off then."

"He _also_ said," Terry continued, "that it was good if you liked languages, and I liked it when we did French at primary school. So maybe. 'Cause the only other thing is Muggle Studies."

"What did Theo say about that?" Anne couldn't help glancing at her watch. She was going to have to get back to her own work very soon. She needed to go over her History of Magic notes.

"He said that I can do Muggle Studies at home, so why bother? Except all of my friends are doing it. And I wouldn't have to work very hard. And it'd be fun to see what other wizards think about Muggles, 'cause Theo doesn't know _anything_ really."

"Well, there's not much point in doing a subject if you know it already..."

"Yeah there is. I can have more time for other stuff."

"Such as..."

"You know, stuff. My friends and music and things. _I _have a life."

Anne shook her head, sitting upright again. "Okay. So definitely Care of Magical Creatures, and..."

Terry sighed. "I really don't know. I'll ask one of the third years, or something. Anyway, we don't even have to choose 'till next term, and that's not for ages, so it doesn't matter. Maybe Ancient Runes. 'Cept then I'd be doing the same ones as Theo, and that's just wrong."

Anne chuckled. "You'd be doing them for very different _reasons_, I think. Theo hated Care of Magical Creatures. He failed his OWL."

"Really?" Terry tilted her head. "Huh. Why?"

"I think he decided he was better off studying things that would help him do something, instead of something he hated."

"Eh..." Terry shrugged. "I'd rather study things I liked, too."

"Funny how alike Gryffindors and Slytherins are, in some ways," Anne mused.

"We are _not_!" Terry straightened indignantly. "Anne, we're not!"

"If you want to believe that." Anne sighed. "Look, Terry, I really do have to study. Quietly."

"Exams are next term, remember?"

"I've got a test next week...a couple, actually. So d'you mind working quietly?"

"I'll go back to the common -"

"No, I think you should stay here until dinner." The library was safe. Madam Pince wasn't going to let anyone disrupt its hallowed precincts.

"You're paranoid," Terry said loftily.

Anne began to sort out her notes. "Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you."

"You're weird."

"I suppose so."

_Unfortunately, right now paranoia is a survival trait. _

_Here's to hoping I won't need it. _

* * *

Theo said, afterwards, they should have known better. Anne countered that even Dumbledore couldn't know _everything_.

Of course not, Theo had said, and Anne was reminded that the dangers to him lay in the fact that the teachers were not omniscient.

But they should have been able to guess, he'd continued.

Hindsight is always perfect, Anne had retorted. Reality's different.

So in reality, the February visit to Hogsmeade was allowed to go ahead, despite the attacks over the holidays. Rumour was rife as to why this was so - Theo had his own private suspicions about Dumbledore's sources - but, apparently, they were safe, escorted by Aurors and teachers both. A daylight attack on Britain's only wizarding village, so close to the impregnable fortress of Hogwarts, was considered unlikely at best.

That was good enough for Anne, who was ambling down - as far as you could amble in a herded bunch of students - with Theo. Anne never missed an opportunity to visit the wizarding village, aware that this was the world she was going to have to live in one day, outside Hogwarts' safe walls. Theo had stated flatly that he was going to go insane if he had to spend one more consecutive day in "this damned castle". The fact that Draco Malfoy had called a Quidditch practice and kept the people Anne was most worried about back at Hogwarts only made it a better idea.

Sergeant Tonks was there again, and Anne took a few minutes to speak to her about Andromache. The Auror gave an odd smirk when introduced to Theo, who identified her after about a minute as "Draco Malfoy's cousin."

"That's right," Tonks said cheerfully. "My mum does really have terrible taste in relatives."

"She can't have had much of a choice," Anne offered.

The Auror smiled wryly. "Yes, but if there are worse sisters she could have picked than Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy, I'd like to know who they are."

Anne winced. "Ah."

"Professor Umbridge," Theo responded. "I'm sure you've heard about her."

"_Oh_, yes. From a few people." Tonks cocked her head at Theo. "I know who you are, of course. Eric Nott's prodigal son ." There was an undercurrent of suppressed...something...in her voice. It was almost as if she knew something about Theo - and Anne, come to think of it - that they didn't. Anne wondered what it could possibly be.

"Not the best metaphor," Theo said coolly. "The prodigal son, if I recall, returned home."

The Auror shrugged. "You know what I meant. You're not the first. And you won't be the last, I'd wager."

"Not the first?" Anne asked. "Who was?"

"Kids've disagreed with their parents for ages, but there was my cousin Sirius, and my mum, back in the first war. They both ran away from home."

"So did my aunt," Theo said dryly. "It's not a well-advertised plague."

"No reason for it to be."

Tonks dropped back to speak to Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, at the back of the group. From the way she greeted them, Anne surmised she knew them well. She wondered where from.

They were almost at the village, now. Strict instructions had been given; they were to reassemble at two o'clock to walk back to the castle together, they were to stay in groups of at least three, and to stick to the main street. Seamus Finnegan and some of the other seventh-year boys had looked disappointed at that last - Anne suspected they'd been planning to sneak off to the Hog's Head. The memory of her New Year's morning headache and the comments of the original DA members who had met there stopped Anne from seeing the enticement of that idea.

Theo was drifting in the direction of Ernie Macmillan and the other Hufflepuffs, so Anne followed him.

"I need to go and get some owl food," Susan Bones was saying. "Could we go to the pet shop first?"

Justin Finch-Fletchley shrugged. "Fine by me."

"Ah, Theo," Ernie said, turning, "We're supposed to stay in groups, you know. Especially people like you."

"I know," Theo replied with a slight smile, "most especially me. Just in case the Dark Lord is hiding in the Three Broomsticks."

"Or in the bookshop," Anne added. "Lots of dark corners. You never know who might be hiding in there."

"I don't know." Susan Bones frowned. "The quill shop looks more dangerous to me."

"Does it really?" said Justin Finch-Fletchley, looking confused, and even more so when the others chuckled. "Oh. Right. Never mind."

Anne was surprised by how easily Theo tagged after the Hufflepuffs. Or maybe that wasn't quite the right word; certainly he wasn't talking as much as they were, he was just there. And so was Anne.

_I should recognise the technique_, she thought as they made their way down the main street, _this is how I am around my dormmates most of the time. _

The war came up, as it always did, and Ernie Macmillan was pontificating on how the Ministry should have managed better.

"Careful," Theo put in, "someone might think you wanted to be a politician."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with politics," the other boy protested, "just the politicians we have now. No offence to your aunt, of course, Susan, but people like Fudge and Umbridge, really, it's a disgrace."

"Never mind," Susan Bones said, "you can be Minister for Magic and clean the system up."

"Hmmm." There was a thoughtful look in Ernie's eyes. Anne caught Theo's glance, and they both tried not to grin.

"You're letting loose a monster," Justin said in disgust, "next thing you know -"

"Stop," Theo said harshly. They all halted, three metres from the pet shop door.

"What -"

"I thought I saw - that alley. There. Can you see anyone in it?"

"No." Anne had to stand on tiptoe to see over a group of fourth-years.

"Who did you see?" Susan Bones asked.

"My aunt." Theo's wand had appeared in his hand. "I could be wrong."

"I thought your aunt was -"

"My other aunt," Theo cut Justin off sharply. "The _Death Eater_?"

The _crack_ of Apparition sounded from behind them, and Ernie, who had been looking in that direction, froze.

"My God!"

Theo whirled, but Anne's eyes were held by two figures in dark robes and masks striding from the alleyway.

"Death Eaters!" Theo was yelling. "Get out of here!"

"We have to stop them, there're _children_ here -" Ernie Macmillan was already moving forward, but Anne couldn't as the fourth years began to back away. One of the Death Eaters raised her wand, and green light spun from it to envelop a girl with a Ravenclaw scarf. She fell to the ground, unmoving.

The others ran.

"We need to _go,_ Anne!" Theo was grabbing her by the arm, but the Death Eater's next spell was flung across the street at her. Her shield charm was barely raised in time, thank heaven Theo had given them that moment's warning, and then she was running with Theo, dodging and diving and hurling all the spells she could remember and some she'd forgotten.

The main street of Hogsmeade was a nightmare of duels and students and fear. Here and there Anne saw teachers herding students back to the castle, Aurors battling, students fighting. Most were just running.

A detached part of her noted that there didn't seem to be many Death Eaters, but there were enough. Too many, really. What Hogsmeade residents were about could be seen dashing into shops; one or two stayed to fight. Not many. Not enough.

The panicked flight of people was causing as much damage as the Death Eaters, in some ways. Anne halted for a second to pull up a third-year who had been knocked over. The boy, incredibly, set his jaw and headed the wrong way, but Anne grabbed him, fuelled by adrenaline, and pushed him in the direction of the castle.

"Go, you can't fight them!"

He looked ready to argue, but was sent on his way with a snapped order from Professor McGonagall.

"Miss Fairleigh, Mr. Abercrombie, back to the castle!"

The boy took to his heels then, but Anne had to drop to avoid a hex she barely spotted. A line of pain etched itself across her shoulder, but McGonagall was already moving towards the Death Eater. Anne stumbled to her feet, shaking the wrist that had braced her fall and looking around. Theo was lost in the chaos. Clusters were gathering around the Death Eaters, teachers, Aurors, and, she saw, students. The DA. She realised with a shock dulled by fear that they were almost the only students remaining.

_And isn't this the point of all that practice? _

She should go, follow Theo's good advice, but she couldn't while her...allies? Comrades? Whatever. While they were still there.

_Better do something, then_.

The Death Eater was pressing McGonagall back, step by step, so Anne pointed her wand at his back and yelled "_Impedimenta_!" He was only slowed, not stopped, but it was enough for the Deputy Headmistress to Stun him and frown again at Anne.

"Miss Fairleigh, I said -"

"Sorry, Professor, can't leave yet," Anne said as she dashed behind Terry Boot and Padma Patil, using them as cover, to the golden-skinned girl pressed against the wall of the Three Broomsticks, clutching her arm.

"Mai, you idiot, why are you still here?" she panted. "You're hurt!"

"I can't go out there, not past them, I can't, I can't-" Mai chanted raggedly.  
"They're losing, we're winning, look, you can hear them running away!"

Anne could hear the distinctive _crack_ of Disapparition, as Death Eaters gave up the fight. She put her hand on Mai's shoulder.

"We have to get back to Hogwarts, Mai. Where are the others?"

"Gone." Mai let Anne lead her out of the alley, ducking past the last few duels - few, as the Death Eaters realised what the odds against them were.

Mai let out a muffled shriek, and Anne followed her gaze to Michael Corner, lying slumped on the ground. Anthony Goldstein was kneeling beside him, shaking him by the shoulders.

"Michael. Michael! Wake up!"

A tall, black Auror put his hand on Anthony's shoulder. "Let it go, son. There's nothing you can do."

"There's always something. I can always think of something -" Anthony protested, but he let M- let the _body_ go.

Mai was shaking now, sobbing, and Anne put an arm around her, carefully avoiding the broken arm.

"Mai. I'm sorry. _We have to go_."

She led the other girl away, trying not to look at the corpse of someone she'd seen alive...how long ago? Ten minutes? Half an hour? Anne wasn't sure. If she didn't look, she didn't have to think about it. If she concentrated on keeping Mai upright and moving, she didn't have to think about the other things crowding her mind.

_Where's Theo? How are the others? Who else is dead? How was this allowed to happen? That girl I saw fall...she died. Did she? _

_Where's Theo? _Where is he?

There were only a few students trailing back to the castle, hurried along briskly by teachers.  
Anne caught up to Luna Lovegood and Colin Creevy.

"Have you seen Theo - Theodore?" she asked them. "Was he -"

Colin began to nod. "I saw him, he's fine, are you all right?"

"Mostly." Her shoulder was bleeding, she knew, and there were more scrapes and bruises than she cared to think about, but she wasn't badly hurt.

"Oh, Theodore _Nott_," Luna said suddenly. "He was helping Ernie Macmillan walk. I think Ernie twisted his ankle. I thought it was very kind of him, you know, I don't think many of the Slytherins would help other people. Or perhaps they _would_, and we don't give them the chance. What do you think, Anne?"

Anne blinked. "I. Ah. Umm..." She thought for a few seconds. "No. No, I think Slytherins are pretty selfish, in general."

"Of course," muttered Mai, tight-lipped with pain.

"That is odd, you know. Don't you know better than thinking everyone in a House is the same? You do go out with a Slytherin, after all."

Anne shrugged. "And the Slytherin I know has his good points, but he _isn't_ the most generous, selfless person in the world. Ambition doesn't, uh, select for selflessness, I suppose."

"You could be right," Luna said vaguely. Anne shook her head mentally. Some people were just...strange. Not that Luna wasn't _nice_, or anything.

Just...strange.

They were drawing close to Hogwarts, now. Mai was no longer crying, but gasping occasionally in a hysterical way.

"We're almost there, Mai," Anne told her soothingly. Keep Mai going. That was it. Then when they got there she could...

_What do I do? _

_Find Theo, of course. _

_Then? _

_Scream. Cry. Run away. Hide under the bed. Lock my family safe in Hogwarts and never let them go..._

_How long does luck last? _

* * *

They put the wounded into categories. That chilled Theo the most, that you could separate them into the ones who didn't need help right now, the ones who needed help soon, and the ones who might die without help. So close. That could have been him clutching a gashed arm, or Anne with half her scalp burnt off, or Terry lying motionless on a stretcher, being taken to the large fireplaces in the Great Hall and then by Floo to St. Mungo's. As it was, Terry as a second year was safe in her common room, probably chafing at the restriction. Anne was sitting on the steps talking to a shocked Mai. Neither of them were unscathed, but neither merited immediate attention.

After being separated from Anne, Theo had found himself, once the battle ended, helping Ernie Macmillan to walk along with Justin Finch-Fletchley. The Hufflepuff Prefect had done nothing worse than wrench his ankle, so he was very far down the list for attention. Theo himself was bruised and battered, but that counted as uninjured, here. Madam Pomfrey and some of the teachers were here, there, and everywhere, but there were too many injured.

Justin and Theo lowered Ernie carefully to a seat on the stairs. That was the "injured, but not badly," designated area.

Ernie winced. "Ow. Thanks, chaps."

"No problem," Justin said cheerfully. Theo just shrugged.

"This is _not_ good, not at all." Ernie frowned at the entrance hall, full of students. The chaos was being whittled down only slowly. "Most inefficient."

"Reckon they're doing their best." Justin sat down beside him. "We were lucky."

"_We_ were," Theo echoed softly, still standing. "Look over there."

"Wha-" The two Hufflepuffs followed his gaze to a cloth-covered stretcher vanishing down the corridor that led to the dungeons. Another one was following.

"Jesus. _Jesus_." Justin looked shell-shocked.

"You didn't see any of them?" Ernie sounded grim, and that was out of character. Theo stared after the...the stretchers.

"I thought we all made it back," Justin whispered. "I thought we were all okay..."

"We made it back. Some of us just made it back on our shields," Theo told him with black humour. "I...saw a couple of...I saw some of the bodies."

"Good thing they're getting them out of the way." Ernie nodded to himself. "Don't want to panic people. We all need to keep calm. Very important, right now."

_You didn't see any of them?_ Theo remembered.

"Who, Ernie?"

There was a pause. "Michael Corner. Rose Zeller, one of our third years. Tracey Davis. I saw her...I saw that. I don't know about any others."

Justin swore again. Theo did, too, under his breath. Another one of the DA.

_We need everyone we've got_.

It was amusing, in a way, that that thought should come before he thought of Tracey. He'd taken her to the Yule Ball in a fourth year that seemed like lifetimes ago. She'd ostracised him this year as harshly as the others, pure Slytherin, not willing to throw in her lot with a lost cause. He didn't blame her, in a distant way; he would have done the same, if it had been anyone else. He couldn't say he'd given her two thoughts for a very long time.

_Could have been worse. Could have been much worse. _

_What an epitaph to get. "Sorry, Tracey, but it could have been worse." _

_Who'd be in Slytherin?_

Susan Bones was crossing the floor towards them, swiping blood out of her eyes from a cut. Theo saw Anne, past her, rise from her seat; he nodded briefly to the Hufflepuff boys and headed towards her.

"Is Ernie Macmillan all right?" she asked, as people brushed and hurried past them. "He looked -"

"No, fine, it was just a sprain. Your friend Mai?"

Anne shook her head. "She'll be all right. It's not a compound break, or anything, but it looks like the lines are clearing, so she'll get it looked at soon. Sarah's sitting with her now. Did you see..."

"They must have set up a morgue in the dungeons. They're taking them down there."

Anne brushed her hair back, biting her lip. "I saw someone die, Theo."

"Oh." He stood there, feeling suddenly inadequate. "You'll be seeing the Thestrals, now, then."

_Of all the stupid things to say,..._

"I don't know who it was." Her hand had dropped to hand by her side, so he reached for it, uncertainly; she clung on. "When they first attacked, when you were all looking the other way. Someone young. She didn't look much older than Terry. A Ravenclaw, I think. Just a girl..."

"Michael Corner was killed. And a third year from your House, too. Rose something."

"I heard." Anne looked towards the passage where those stretches had disappeared. "It's too close, Theo."

"It was too close months ago."

A dark-haired girl in the "immediate attention" section caught his eye. A blue-and-bronze scarf still trailed from her neck; her arm was opened in a deep gash from elbow to wrist. Madam Pomfrey was muttering over it. The girl - no, it was Celia. She lifted her head to show a face white with pain.

"That's not supposed to happen," Anne said beside him. It was hard to hear her over the noise.

"Not...she should be safe."

"It was probably an accident." Theo tried not to sound bitter.

"They should look after their own." Anne's forehead was creased with anger, not puzzlement. "That's not right!"

"What do you expect from Death Eaters?" It surprised Theo, to be honest, but not as much as it once might have. He knew how loyalties could shift. "Just another frightened girl in Hogwarts uniform. They can't recognise everyone."

"Most of...of your class weren't there," Anne said slowly. "They were warned?"

Madam Pomfrey was clearly telling Celia to look away from the wound, and her gaze landed on Theo. Even through the pain, anger was visible. Almost hatred.

"They must have been," he replied, wrenching his eyes back to Anne. "But I know Celia, and she's curious enough to have gone anyway."

"She must have been." Anne stepped aside to let a couple of Gryffindors pass. "I'd be...she will be mad at you. You're the...you're on the wrong side, and you're unhurt, or close enough, and she..."

"Celia never did like traitors," Theo said softly. It was strange how Anne flinched from the word and he didn't anymore. Hufflepuff loyalties, perhaps. Betrayal was anathema to them, and they were the ones who'd befriended him. Very strange.

"Quiet," called McGonagall from near the doorway. It took a few seconds for the voices to die down. Theo and Anne turned to look at her. The Deputy Headmistress looked tired. Bone tired.

"I note," she began, "that many of you are not in need of medical attention. Everyone who is not is to go to their common rooms immediately. Your Head of House will be along in a few minutes to speak with you about safety restrictions and...other such things. Please do not linger in the corridors."

"What about them?" came a voice from closer to the front. Theo could see, with his higher vantage point, heads turning to the speaker. Zacharias Smith. It would be. His arm was outstretched in the direction of the corridor down which those covered stretchers had gone.

"Are you going to tell us who's dead, Professor?"

Voices rose in a worried hum, louder this time. Evidently some of the students sitting down or to the other side of the Entrance Hall had not know.

"Quiet, please!" McGonagall said severely. She pursed her lips, evidently considering what to say. "This was to be announced by your Heads of House, but as the subject has been raised..." Her voice grew duller. "There are four confirmed casualties at this point. Mr. Michael Corner, Miss Rose Zeller, Miss Orla Quirke, and Miss Tracey Davis. Any other friends or family missing from your common rooms will be either here, or in...in certain cases, at St. Mungo's. Back to your common rooms, now, unless you're injured."

Anne gave Theo a quick nod and headed back through the crowd. Theo saw her emerge near the stairs, say a few words to Mai, and disappear towards her common room. He glanced back over his shoulder to see that Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones were also moving, and started scooting around the outside of the crowd towards his common room. Down the same corridor as the corpses.

_What a pleasant thought. _


	18. Staccato

**A/N**: A day or so late, I know; I had guests over and by yesterday evening I was just too tired (and too stressed from getting the Major Important Life-Determining exam results back) to post. The good news is, though, I passed the exams. Quite well. :P

Chapter Eighteen - Staccato

Theo was scribbling a reminder to himself about dynamics on his music when the door to the practice room slammed open behind him. He spun around, reaching for his wand. He'd thought no one had noticed him leave the common room -

Terry raised her hands, looking startled. "It's just me."

Theo lowered his wand with a frown. "I thought you were someone else."

"Well I'm not." She was going to break the door one day. "Could you come and help me?"

"With what?" Theo hedged.

"The A-string on my 'cello's gone really out of tune and I can't get it fixed properly." Terry clasped her hands behind her back, looking up at him pleadingly. "Please?"

Theo sighed. He should have just said no. "All right, all right. Where is it?"

"Just the next room," Terry replied. "Thanks _so_ much." Theo followed her out, shaking his head.

"You shouldn't be here by yourself," he scolded her.

"I wasn't. Jake and Alex came, but they left. Anyway, no one knows who I am."

"Don't count on that," Theo said darkly. "Gryffindors. You all think you're bloody invincible."

"At least we're not all like you," Terry sniffed. "Here." She lifted up the 'cello, balancing it on the spike. "I got the other strings okay, I think, but the A's horrible. It sounds like Dad's computer connecting to the Internet."

"The what doing what?" Theo said, plucking the aforementioned string and wincing. "Ouch. That's about a C." He twisted the top peg up, gingerly. Breaking a string would not be much fun. "Hmm." He plucked it again. "Better."

"A computer," Terry said patiently. "It's like...um...maybe you should ask Anne." She hovered, apparently worried he'd break her precious instrument. The school's precious instrument, to be precise, but as far as Theo knew she was the only one who used it.

"Is that it?"

"Almost." Theo reached for the fine-tuning pegs. Might as well check the other strings while he was at it. The D was very flat. "There we go."

"Thanks." Terry accepted the 'cello back. It was taller than her with the spike out. "Eddie used to help me tune my cello at home. He stopped playing the violin ages ago, though."

"Anne didn't?" Theo asked, heading for the door.

"She doesn't like strings." Terry paused. "Er...Theo?"

He stopped in the doorway, turning. "Yes?"

"Oh. Nothing." She grinned. "You don't like listening to me talk lots anyway."

"Of course not," Theo replied, straight-faced. "Utter waste of time."

Terry glanced at him uncertainly, so he smiled and closed the door behind him. Keeping ebullient Terry off-balance was a fine art. He practised assiduously.

She could catch him off-balance, too, though, and she did so quite effectively about twenty minutes later. There was nothing more startling than having a mysterious hand reach around and turn the page on your music just as _you_ were about to, especially when you hadn't heard anyone enter the room. The next notes he played were a horrible muddle.

"Don't _do_ that, Terry," he said in exasperation.

She giggled. "I wanted to see if I could sneak up on _you_."

"Weren't you practising?" Theo asked pointedly.

"I finished." She shrugged, leaning on the piano. Theo recognised the posture and tone of voice from his two summers with Lucas and Celia. They meant "I'm bored; entertain me."

"I'm sure you have homework," he said, frowning at his music. He had little enough time as it was for this, without Terry hanging around.

"I'll do it later." Terry waved a hand. "It doesn't matter in second year anyway."

Short of bodily throwing her out, she wouldn't leave, and Theo was loath to do that. It was only Terry, after all.

_Dear Merlin, I am getting soft. _

She listened in silence until the end of the movement, for a wonder, and then said: "Theo, what are you going to do next year?"

The non sequitur made him pause. "What on earth got that into your head?"

Terry shrugged. "I was just sort of thinking about subjects, and what I'm doing next year, and stuff, and how Anne will have NEWTs, and then I wondered what you'd be doing, 'cause you're leaving, and there are all those Death Eaters who want to kill you and stuff."

_And stuff. What a myriad of evils gets hidden in the words "and stuff." _

Theo pushed the stool back from the piano, stretching his legs. "I don't see that it's any of your business really."

"Is it like a deep dark secret?" Terry inquired.

Theo sighed. "To be honest? More a deep dark mass of confusion."

"But it's March. It's almost the holidays. Don't you have to apply for jobs and things?"

"Not until after the holidays." Thankfully. Theo felt out of place, right now. He was Slytherin, he should _know_ what he wanted to do. But he'd been distracted by the more important goal of not being dead before he left school for too long to have developed clear ideas. He would have to make some decisions during the holidays, before he was lost entirely in exam revision.

_If _anyone_ wants to employ a Death Eater's son. _

_That is, if anyone who isn't secretly a Death Eater does. _

"What d'you want to do? I think I'd like to be a teacher here. Or somewhere else. Or make potions, or something. Or astronomy, that's fun too. Being a witch is so much better than being a Muggle. If I was a Muggle I'd probably end up doing something like Mum or Dad, and they have _really_ boring jobs."

"Your mother's a librarian, isn't she?"

"That's right." Terry started to swing idly on the end of the piano, and Theo glared at her. "Sorry. That's boring, though. And Dad's an accountant. I'm not sure exactly what that is, but it sounds _awful_. All numbers and maths."

"I hate to tell you this," Theo said, "but the wizarding world has accountants, too. Someone has to add up the numbers."

"Oh." Terry looked disconcerted. "Well, I won't be one. Will you?"

"Please, no. You can't get anywhere being an accountant."

"So what _do_ you want to do?"

Theo leant one elbow on the piano, avoiding the keys. "I might apply for a job with Gringotts."

"But banks do numbers."

Theo chuckled. "Not Gringotts. They only employ humans to put up wards and things, because goblins haven't been allowed wands since the last big rebellion. The goblins do everything to do with the actual money."

"That still sounds boring."

"I like it." He'd had to, this year, with all the practice he'd been getting. Besides, goblins wouldn't care what his father had done - or what Theo had done. All they would care about was if he could do his job well.

"Fine, then." Terry flicked her fingers in a you're-stupid-but-I-won't-argue gesture. "Are you going to stay with your aunt and uncle? The nice ones, I mean."

"No." This idea had been forming ever since the letter from his mother. He wasn't much safer at Monique and Callum's than he would be on his own, and they were much less safe than they would be without him. Besides, he wasn't their...their responsibility. "I'm...my mother left me some money. I'm going to get a flat. Share it with someone, I don't know."

"That's a good idea." Terry nodded. "Then if Anne leaves home next year she can flat with you."

"She can _what_?"

"She's your girlfriend," Terry said pointedly.

Theo drew himself up. "I don't know about _Muggles_, but wizards don't do...that sort of thing."

"What, live in the same place?"

"Not before they - never mind. We _don't_."

"Do you have to be married or something?"

"Well...yes." Theo did not want to have this conversation. He knew perfectly well what the next words out of Terry's mouth would be. He had enough impossible concepts to get his mind around at the moment without thinking about...things.

"I should go and -" he began at the same time as Terry said, "Well, that's okay, 'cause -"

There was a sharp knock on the door. Theo almost flew out of his seat to open it.

"Oh, Ernie. Is something wrong?"

Ernie Macmillan was standing outside, looking shifty. Theo would not have said that was possible. Ernie was far too open for shiftiness.

"Yes, there is, actually. Something's happened with P - with Harry and his friends. They're at St. Mungo's with Dumbledore. We're meeting in the usual place."

"Now?"

Ernie nodded. "Right now. It's...it's important." He peered over Theo's shoulder. "Your...you'd better come, too, er, Fairleigh."

"But I'm not in the DA," Terry protested. "Never mind. I'm coming."

"Is Anne all right?" Theo asked as they followed Ernie down the corridor. "I-"

"She's fine," Ernie cut in. "We've got to hurry."

Theo frowned. Ernie seemed out of sorts. Something must be badly wrong, and he didn't like to think about the consequences.

"So what happened to Harry Potter?" Terry said, bouncing up. "Is he hurt?"

"I'm not sure what happened exactly," Ernie told her. "Something in the Forbidden Forest. As far as I know, it wasn't him that got injured, it was - it was Ginny Weasley."

Terry gasped. "Oh, no! I like Ginny. She's really nice. I hope she's okay."

"There are enough Weasleys to go around," Theo told her dryly, "but Ginny Weasley's tough. I'm sure she'll be fine."

Ernie looked as if he wanted to say something but didn't. What _was_ the matter?

They passed Justin on the way there, who frowned at them.

"Where's he going?" Theo asked.

"To find some of the others," Ernie said after a moment. "Here we are."

Terry was almost jumping up and down with excitement. "I heard this room is _really_ cool. Dennis Creevy said so."

"Mmm," Ernie replied. "Ah, you made it." The last was addressed to three others who had arrived at much the same time - Susan Bones, Anne, and...Justin?

"I saw you -" Terry began, and Theo felt alarm bells going off in his head. "Macmillan, what on earth -"

A hand between his shoulderblades pushed him into the Room of Requirement. He stumbled on an uneven stone floor. This was not the form it took for their DA meetings. It was a small, cold, stone chamber, featureless except for a fireplace in which sunken orange flames were flickering.

Theo recovered and spun, only to see Anne and Terry shoved in after him.

"Give that back!" Anne was saying indignantly. "_You're not Susan!_"

"Susan" was pocketing a wand.

"_Expelliarmus_," said Ernie - who wasn't Ernie - and Theo felt his own wand ripped from his hand.

The ground dropped out from beneath him.

_I never guessed. I never thought - stupid, stupid, stupid_!

"You're insane, Malfoy," he said in a low voice. Blonde glints were appearing in "Justin's" hair. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Everyone will know -"

Anne had grabbed Terry's hand and was standing beside him.

"Everyone won't," Malfoy said with a lazy smile. It looked ugly on Justin's face. "Potter really _is_ at St Mungo's. Dumbledore really _isn't_ here. We'll Floo your bodies away and no one will ever know anything."

"Oh, are you using Polyjuice Potion?" Terry interrupted. "Wow. That's really hard. Which recipe did you use? There was one in Most Potente Potions but I thought the one in -"

"Shut up, Mudblood, "Ernie" said. Blaise Zabini, Theo would have bet his life on it.

"The school fireplaces need authorisation. You can't use them," Anne said, sounding brittle. Her face was pale. Terry's silence didn't bode well. Theo put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from doing anything stupid.

"The school ones do," Blaise agreed. "This one isn't a school one. It's here because we _needed _it. And we can use it, because we need to..."

"Are you going to try and kill us?" Terry asked slowly.

"No. We're going to kill you," "Susan" told her. Pansy Parkinson, it looked like, as the potion wore off.

Theo exchanged glances with Anne, drawing closer to her. The other Slytherins - no, the _Death Eaters_ were between them and the door. Which appeared to be locked. Screaming wouldn't help.

_We were supposed to be safe at Hogwarts! _

_So this is how long you can stay lucky. A few months. A little while. Not long enough. _

Malfoy raised his wand.

"As your Lord commands, right, Malfoy?" Theo said witheringly. "How pitiful."

"This room gives you what you _need_?" Terry burst out.

"You obviously need to be taught a lesson," Zabini said. "_Crucio._"

Terry's scream felt like a knife-blade. Theo found himself charging forward one minute, Anne's words about her brother ringing in his ears - _only because you weren't there to do it_. The next he was teetering on the brink of a chasm that hadn't been there two seconds ago. He threw his body back, managing to fall on solid ground. The only parts of Malfoy, Zabini and Parkinson visible were their hands, gripping the brink. They could be _heard _ quite clearly.

_Where did that come from - the Room of Requirement. We're in the Room of Requirement. It gives you what you need..._

Theo pushed himself up, trying not to laugh hysterically. Terry was lying on the ground like a puppet with all her strings cut. He felt sick.

"Terry!" Anne was kneeling next to her. "Terry, are you all right?"

"What do you think?" Terry whispered. She levered herself up slowly. "That _hurt_."

"Get us out of here, Nott!" Malfoy was yelling indignantly. Theo ignored him.

"I always said your tongue was going to get you in trouble," he told Terry. "No, don't stand up. It'll hurt less if you sit down for a few minutes."

"How do you know?" Anne said sharply, swiping her hair back.

"I remember when my father - when he came back from...from meetings. Sometimes. The Dark Lord doesn't appreciate failures."

"Good." Anne clenched her fists. "He won't appreciate _them_ either."

Theo looked back over his shoulder. One fewer hand was visible. "Out of interest," he said, "did you envisage a bottom to that, or is it just a bottomless pit?"

Anne frowned. "I'm not sure. I just needed them to be _stopped_, and they were..."

"This _is_ a cool room," Terry said approvingly. Her voice was still weak.

"I don't _believe_ you," Anne said, shaking her head.

"Gryffindors," Theo said sagely, "they're all the same."

Anne's lips quirked. "Apparently."

Terry sniffed at this concerted attack on her House. "So?" ****

"Do you think we should help them?" Anne added, nodding at the chasm.

"If you don't, you'll regret it!" Pansy Parkinson screeched. Anne looked at Terry, and her lips thinned. "On second thoughts..."

Theo squeezed her shoulder. "They'll keep."

They'd just got Terry to her feet when the door, which Theo realised had been rattling, burst open.

"Be careful, we can't damage school property!" Ernie Macmillan could be heard warning Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley, who stood in the doorway.

"It's the Room of Requirement, it'll fix itself," Susan was saying. "What on-"

"I knew something was up!" Justin said, nodding to himself. He peered into the chasm. "Something got you down, Malfoy?"

There was silence.

Theo and Anne skirted the pit, Anne guiding Terry with a careful hand.

"Er, Susan, they've still got our wands. Would you mind-" Anne asked politely.

"No problem." The older girl Summoned them quickly. "_Accio_ Anne and Theodore's wands!"

Theo nodded briefly to her as he accepted his. "Thanks."

"Now what's going on here?" Ernie demanded. "Justin came running into the common room with some story about seeing me and you on the fifth floor, and now the Room of Requirement's like this and _those_ three -"

"It's complicated," Anne said. "I need to take Terry to the Hospital Wing."

"I'll be okay," Terry protested.

"You won't." Anne's voice was shaky.

"We'll take care of them," Ernie said firmly, "you three go. I must say, Anne, your sister doesn't look too good."

"The Cruciatus Curse does that to you," Theo noted, smiling grimly when the Hufflepuffs' eyes widened. "Be careful. The Headmaster's not here."

Justin swallowed. "We will be."

* * *

Madam Pomfrey bustled up as soon as they got to the Hospital Wing, muttering to herself. "Students going to St. Mungo's, what's next? A touch of flu, dear? You look awfully pale - all three of you -"

Terry obliged her by collapsing, her fall stayed only by Anne.

"It was only a few seconds," Anne said, "surely -"

"She's so _small_, it's bad enough for adults." Theo helped Madam Pomfrey move Terry onto a bed. She did look tiny.

"What's bad enough for adults?" Madam Pomfrey said sharply.

There was a moment's pause. Anne bit her lip. "The Cruciatus Curse."

The Matron gasped. "In _Hogwarts_? That can't be -"

"We saw it, we heard it, it very well is!" Theo retorted.

Madam Pomfrey was already moving. "All right, then. Are you two hurt?"

They shook their heads. "No? Go and get Professor McGonagall, then. She'll need to deal with this. Miss Fairleigh will be fine with a good rest." Pomfrey looked uncharacteristically angry. "Who did this?"

"One of the Slytherins." Anne sounded tired. "I don't know -" She glanced at Theo.

"Blaise Zabini," Theo said without hesitation. _Welcome to Slytherin, just don't trust anyone. _

Madam Pomfrey tutted. "How it's come to this, I don't know...well, get along with you."

Anne had to be guided out, looking back at Terry the whole way.

As soon as they were outside, she sank back against the wall, eyes closed. "God, Theo, what am I going to tell my parents? _What am I going to tell them_?"

Theo laid a hand on her shoulder, as much for his own comfort as for hers. "I don't know."

Anne smiled, sadly. "No. Neither do I. It feels like I'm running and running and things are still catching up to me faster than I can run." She opened her eyes, looking up at him. "I suppose you feel something like that."

"Things...caught up a long time ago. Now I'm just trying to ride the storm out." This time last year he'd felt in control of his life. This time last year he'd thought he could handle whatever was going to happen.

This time last year, he'd been very stupid.

The corridor was empty, so Theo bent down to kiss Anne on the forehead. "Terry will be fine. We'd better go and find McGonagall."

Anne leant into his shoulder. "We should." But it was much easier for Theo to slip his arm around her shoulders and just stand there, pretending the rest of the world didn't exist.

"It's not your fault," he said quietly. "You know that."

"It's not _yours_."

_No. Not really. Sort of. _

_I don't have the energy to feel guilty about this as well. It's all Malfoy's fault, anyway. _

_Although I do seem to have the energy to feel guilty about not feeling guilty_

_Right. _

They were separated by the echo of brisk footsteps approaching.

"Right. McGonagall." Anne squared her shoulders. "Let's go."

In fact, they only got about ten feet down the corridor. The footsteps turned out to be those of McGonagall, who was striding towards them looking more like a, well, a Gryffindor, than Theo could ever recall. He suppressed an urge to nip down a side corridor.

"Mr Nott. Miss Fairleigh. Where is Theresa?"

"With Madam Pomfrey, Professor." Anne glanced over her shoulder. "We were being sent to find you."

"Very well. You're both coming with me to my office. Now."

"_We_ haven't done anything wrong -" Theo began.  
McGonagall silenced him with a beady stare. "According to Mr Malfoy, Mr Zabini, and Miss Parkinson, neither have they. According to Mr Finch-Fletchley, Miss Bones, and Mr Macmillan, neither have _they_. A lot have people have not done anything wrong, if I take everyone at their word. Evidently, a great deal of wrong has been done. I intend to find out by whom. Follow me."

"They used an Unforgivable on my _sister_, Professor," Anne said stonily, folding her arms. "And I'll swear to that by anything you want."

"Miss Fairleigh, I did say that wrongdoing had evidently been committed, did I not? I sincerely doubt that either you or Mr Nott are responsible for your sister's injury. For goodness' sake, I'm not sending you to Azkaban." McGonagall did not bother with another command, but simply turned on her heel and headed for her office. Theo and Anne fell in step behind, Anne taking two steps for every one of Theo's to keep up.

"Where's the Headmaster, Professor?" Theo asked. McGonagall did not turn around. "He is due back from St. Mungo's in about fifteen minutes."

"Is it true that Ginny Weasley's been hurt?"

"Who told you that?"

"Blaise Zabini."

There was silence; McGonagall must look intimidating. Several fourth-years heading in the opposite direction blanched when they saw her.

"She will be fine," McGonagall said eventually. "Did Mr Zabini mention how he acquired this information?"

Theo snorted. "He's a Death Eater, of course. Professor."

"That is unproven, as yet."

"What does he have to do, stand up in the Great Hall and -" Anne coughed. "Sorry, Professor."

"I cannot promise you justice for your sister, not these days, Miss Fairleigh." McGonagall's voice was bitter. "But we will try."

**

* * *

**

Anne tried to ignore a spurt of nervousness as they approached McGonagall's office. She wasn't entirely sure she _wanted_ to face the three Slytherins again. Not with Terry lying so pale on that bed in the Hospital Wing. All sound in the world around her still seemed haunted by the echo of her screams. How could she face her mother and father after this? Knowing that, except for Theo's presence in her life, this would not have happened...

_No! It was Terry's fault as much as Theo's, speaking out. Mine, letting her go off by herself. Theo was trying to protect her. It _wasn't _his fault. _

_But I could be mad at Theo, because he's right here to be mad at._

She glanced sideways - up - at Theo; he caught her gaze, and his lips quirked in a brief, reassuring smile.

_Or maybe I couldn't. _

_No, never Theo's fault_.

The door stood a fraction open, and McGonagall sped up. Anne was already walking as fast as she could. They almost ran into the Transfiguration Professor, though, when she stopped dead in the doorway.

"Where are they?" Theo snarled. Anne couldn't see over her teacher's shoulder.

"What is it?" she asked, heart speeding up. _Not something _else.

McGonagall moved slowly into the room, Anne and Theo following. Anne moved closer to Theo, wishing that she dared grab his hand. It just didn't seem like the place.

The office was indeed occupied, but of the Slytherins, there was no sign. Snape was scowling at the prone form of Susan Bones.

"_Enervate_," he snarled, pointing his wand at her. Ernie and Justin were rubbing their heads and looking very sorry for themselves indeed.

"Where are they, Severus?" McGonagall said, scanning the office.

"Gone when I arrived." The Potions professor folded his arms. "_You left them alone_?"

Anne edged round to Susan. "Are you all right?" she whispered.

"Ow. I suppose so." The other girl winced as she moved a little too fast. "Zabini and Malfoy had spare wands. Bastards."

"I'm sorry, Miss Bones?" McGonagall said in a voice like liquid helium.

"Uh, sorry, Professor," Susan said quickly.

"How did they get the jump on _you_ three?" Theo was asking Ernie. "You've bested them before!"

"Really, when was that, Mr Nott?" Snape interposed smoothly, his disagreement with McGonagall forgotten when there were students to bait.

"Nothing very important, sir," Theo said without batting an eyelash. Anne wished she could do that. "Just a small disagreement on the train a couple of years ago. I didn't see it myself."

"I seem to remember a letter from Narcissa Malfoy about that," McGonagall said, eyeing Ernie, Justin and Susan in turn. "I had always assumed...but that's beside the point. What happened here?"

"I was telling Anne, they had spare wands," Susan said, folding her arms around herself. "We thought they were disarmed."

"Very bad form." Ernie frowned. "It's just not done."

"Neither is torturing twelve-year-olds," Anne reminded him, trying to ignore the memories. "In fact, neither is being a Death Eater."

"They'll be long gone by now," Snape said out of the blue. "It only would have taken them a few minutes to leave the grounds, and I know they all had their Apparition licences."

"I underestimated them," McGonagall said, tapping her fingers on her desk. "With Albus not here...odd. I never thought Mr Malfoy would leave the school over anything less than something involving Mr Potter."

"The world doesn't revolve around Potter," Snape and Theo said at the same time, and stared at each other. Anne covered her mouth with her hand.

"But I don't see why they took that chance," Justin said. "I mean, running for it..."

"They knew the jig was up, obviously," Ernie informed him. "They wouldn't have got away with it this time. Not Unforgivables."

"They won't get a pleasant reception, at least." Theo smiled viciously. "Not if I remember what my father said about failing the Dark Lord."

"They won't," Snape agreed. "What's this about Unforgivables?"

"Blaise Zabini used the - the Cruciatus Curse -" Theo seemed to be having as much trouble saying it as Anne did thinking it. He swallowed. "On Terry Fairleigh."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "I see." Anne wished she knew what he was thinking. Terry liked Potions, didn't she? Did that work both ways? She couldn't see how it wouldn't, but Terry was her sister.

"Well." McGonagall drew a deep breath. "All of you are unhurt, I trust. I seem to be saying that far too much, these days." Her lips twisted. "I will ask you to return to your common rooms and say nothing of this to anyone. As soon as the Headmaster gets back, he will wish to speak to you."

"That would be now, Minerva." Anne turned her head to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway. "I have just visited the infirmary. Miss Fairleigh brought me up to date on events in the school during my absence. It seems I only have to leave for a few hours for such things to happen, these days." He frowned. "Where are -"

"They escaped, Headmaster," Snape said sourly. "If they hadn't been left with only other students -"

"Professor, we thought they were unarmed!" Ernie protested indignantly. "They - they _cheated_."

Dumbledore smiled. "It is something Voldemort's followers do very often, I am afraid. You are sure they are off the grounds?"

"We haven't had time to look, Headmaster," McGonagall told him. "If you think -"

"There is an easier way to do that, I think, Minerva," Dumbledore said gravely.

Susan spoke up. "Harry's map? We've all seen it. That would work."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Secrets are hard to keep in this school."

"Not if you're careful," Anne said thoughtfully. "It has been done, Professor."

"It depends on who you are, I think," Theo said.

"These things do." Dumbledore's eyes travelled over them. "As it occurs...please do as Professor McGonagall has asked, and return to your common rooms. I think I have heard most of what I need to. Oh, and Miss Fairleigh, Mr Nott, could you come to my office at, say, five o'clock? I believe I need to speak to the pair of you further."

"Yes, sir," Anne and Theo chimed, exchanging glances.

_What have we done?_

_Please, let this be the end of it_, Anne thought. _They're gone. As long as my family are safe...I don't care. They're gone. We're safe here. _

_And what was the cost of that?_

* * *

Anne arrived at the Hufflepuff common room with the others to find it abuzz with rumour. Oddly enough, absolutely nothing concerning them, apart from Hannah Abbott's comment that she was sure she'd seen Anne going towards the hospital wing with her little sister, was she okay?

Susan Bones laughed bitterly. "Not really, Hannah." Hannah looked confused. "Oh, dear, what happened?"

"I'm afraid we can't say anything, Hannah," Ernie informed her, "but I'm sure you'll find out soon enough."

"Oh." Hannah blinked. "Well, I heard that Harry Potter and his friends went off into the Forbidden Forest - and do you know what happened -"

Anne sought the familiarity of her own year group. Gabby would know all the -

_No! No, but the others will know enough. _

"Anne, do you know what's going on?" Mai accosted her as soon as she sat down. "I heard that Ginny Weasley got killed!"

"That's not true, don't spread rumours, Mai," Sarah scolded her. "I heard she was taken to St. Mungo's, though. Anne, you look awful. Did you have a fight with someone?"

"Yes," Anne said slowly, "but...I can't talk about it. No, really, Mai, I can't. And _no_, I wasn't fighting with Theo."

"Oh." Sarah sank back into her seat, looking annoyed. Anne ignored her.

"Was it Terry?" Ellie asked.

Anne bit her lip, not knowing what to say. "I didn't fight with Terry, no. I...please. I can't play Twenty Questions about this."

"That wasn't what I was asking," Ellie corrected her calmly. "Your sister gets into fights a lot more than you. Did she pick the wrong one?"

"_Don't_, Ellie. I -" Anne couldn't think of anything else to say. She'd run out of time, of words, of everything. Hogsmeade two weeks ago and Terry today. What next? Death Eaters in the cosy Hufflepuff common room?

"Is she all right?" Ellie continued. Mai was clutching her book to her chest.

"It wasn't anything too awful?" she said anxiously. "Not in Hogwarts!"

Sarah abruptly rose from her chair and strode towards the seventh-year prefects, Ernie and Hannah. Clearly she thought other sources of Authority would reveal the truth to her.

"Hogwarts..." Anne curled up in the armchair, not looking at the others, but across the common room. So many people. Were any of them safe? "I think that's...it's an illusion, Mai. Dumbledore's what keeps us safe. Not Hogwarts. Hogwarts is just a fortress." Hogwarts' walls had not done anything, when it came down to it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mai retorted. "I - sorry, Anne. I'm...nervous."

_Nervous. Hah. You've been a bundle of nerves all year, Mai. _

_It means that anything man can make, he can break...it means that fortresses fall. _

"So what do you think has happened to Harry Potter?" Ellie offered. Anne looked back at her. "I don't know. I haven't - I haven't heard anything."

"_Nothing_?" Mai straightened. "Where have you been? It's all over the school! Harry Potter went into the Forbidden Forest with his friends - Hermione Granger, and the Weasleys, all that lot. Except nobody knows _why_. All they know is that Ginny Weasley got hurt - really hurt - and something about spiders, Merlin knows why. But Dumbledore headed off to St. Mungo's with them hours ago."

"Brian said he's back," Ellie interjected.

Anne nodded. "He is." _And if he'd stayed, would Terry_...

Sarah returned, flopping back onto the couch. "Secrets. Hmph. How am I supposed to keep things under control if I don't know what's happening?"

"Ernie and Hannah not saying anything?" Mai frowned. "Anne?"

"Hannah doesn't know anything, and Ernie can't say anything," Anne said quickly. "Okay?"

"We were telling Anne about all the rumours." Ellie shot Sarah a dry glance. "You know more than us about _that_."

"Oh, yes." Sarah settled back, once more in charge. "We're not to spread rumours. There was an accident, that's all, people going where they shouldn't. McGonagall said it was nothing to worry about."

Mai scoffed. "Accidents don't happen to Harry Potter. _Events_ happen."

"That's not important." Sarah shrugged it off. "We need to keep together, these days, and panic won't help anyone."

Anne rose, unable to sit there a minute longer. She'd start talking. "I'm just...I'm just going to the dorm."

"We won't tell anyone anything," Sarah told her kindly. "You can trust us."

Anne took a deep breath, trying valiantly to not hear Sarah's voice in her ears, from before Christmas. Before Gabby.

_You're either part of this House, or you're not! _

She wanted to something biting, something Theo would have said in her place. Something like "Can I?" or "Really?" or "That's interesting to hear."

But she was Anne, and saying something like that would have ruined whatever peace Sarah was giving her.

So all she said was "I know," before leaving for the dorm to huddle on her bed, waiting for five o'clock.


	19. Ironico

A/N: Sorry this is late - I went away, worked a nine-hour day, and then had a minor crisis about losing the disc I use to transfer data onto our internet-capable computer.  
Y'know, this whole thing would be much easier without real life. Wow. I think this is a chapter without any deaths. I knew I'd forgotten _something. _ Chapter Nineteen - Ironico

In six years, nearly seven, at Hogwarts, Theo had never entered the Headmaster's office. He'd never been bad enough, or good enough, he supposed; he wondered which was applicable here. He had to stop in the corridor to ask Harry Potter, who was looking even more tired than normal, exactly where it was.

"Fifth floor. Behind the gargoyle," Potter told him. "What happened?"

Theo sighed. "Long story. Much like yours, I imagine. Suffice it to say that Draco Malfoy isn't going to be a problem for you from now on."

Potter's eyebrows shot up. "He-"

"-left. Snape was spitting. He has apparently developed a keen sense of justice. Of something, anyway."

"Left." Potter looked stunned. Theo supposed that when someone painted themselves as your worst enemy for seven years, and then just vanished while you were away, it would be startling.

"Yes. I'd better go. Thanks, anyway."

"Mmm," said Potter absently, frowning to himself. "Left?" Theo could hear him muttering as he walked away. "He can't have just left!"

Theo smirked, feeling more in control of the situation. He wasn't the only one thrown off-course by today's events.

The gargoyle on the fifth floor slid soundlessly aside as Theo approached it. He shrugged it off. Dumbledore didn't know everything that went on in the school, but Theo would have been surprised if he hadn't know when someone approached his office. Theo took the spiral staircase in long strides to the door at the top, trying to contain a sudden bout of nerves. He reached for the handle, then paused, and knocked.

"Come in," called the Headmaster's voice through the wood, and Theo opened the door.

The office was larger than he'd thought, walls covered with portraits that were all looking straight at him. The picture of an older man in green robes looked down his nose at Theo.

"This is the Slytherin, Albus? I expected better of one of mine."

"Now, Phineas, don't jump to conclusions," Dumbledore admonished the portrait (which showed a good deal more personality than any other portrait Theo had encountered.)

Anne was already there, sitting on the couch next to a Muggle man Theo did not recognise. Judging by the circumstances, though, Theo rather thought he might be Anne's father. The thought did not make him feel any better. Quite the contrary.

"Ah, Theodore. Do take a seat. Sherbet lemon?" Dumbledore offered him some sort of yellow lozenge-looking thing. Theo shook his head.

"Uh, no, thank-you, Headmaster." He sat down on one of the chairs next to Anne's side of the couch. He couldn't very well sit down next to her, after all.

He shot a glance at Anne, but she didn't meet it, being apparently very interested in the far wall. He could understand the attraction.

"Now, both of you," Dumbledore said, looking at them over the rims of his glasses, "I believe an explanation of today's events for Mr Fairleigh is in order. I know you may not feel ready to speak of it, but it is better to do it now, trust me."

So it _was_ Anne's father. When the man nodded calmly at him and said, "Hello, Theodore, I've been hearing quite a lot about you," Theo only managed to mumble, "Ah, hmm, hello, Mr Fairleigh," and try not to stare at the carpet. He wished Mary Fairleigh had come. At least he'd met her before.

"Dad," Anne began hesitantly, "you've seen Terry?"

Her father nodded, lips tightening. "Yes. She seems...surprisingly bouncy, from what your school matron told me."

"Well, it's Terry, after all," Theo couldn't help commenting, then wished he hadn't. "That is, she's, um, not easily deterred."

"No, she isn't," agreed Mr Fairleigh. He had a Manchurian burr to his voice; Theo was surprised. Anne certainly had a southern accent. "She was a bit scattered in her story-telling, though."

"Terry has never liked telling stories," Anne said softly. "She's never had the patience. I can't tell you very much. I was in the library when Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley - they're in Theo's year, Dad - came in. They said there was a meeting for the DA, and I needed to come now. Something about Harry Potter, they said."

"Taking advantage of my absence, one assumes," Dumbledore noted. "Do go on."

Anne shrugged, still not looking at Theo. "Well, I went with them - or I thought it was them - and when we got to the Room of Requirement, that's where the meetings are -"

"You _thought_ it was them?" Jonathan Fairleigh interrupted. "It wasn't?"

"Polyjuice Potion," Theo filled in. He continued when the man looked blank. "It turns you into someone else for an hour or so. Totally illegal. Difficult to make. I'm sure Terry will be brewing it up in your kitchen in a few years."

"Don't encourage her," Anne said, laughing, and finally glancing his way. "You know she'll try."

She looked back at her father, apparently remembering where she was. "Anyway. They were really Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy. Two Slytherins, in Theo's year."

"Death Eaters," Theo added. "I - we underestimated them. Badly."

"Death Eaters killed a cousin of yours, around New Years', didn't they?" Anne's father asked, shifting on the couch. "With Anne's friend Gabby."

Theo shrugged, smiling bitterly. "They did. And half of them are - well, there aren't many people who haven't lost someone, these days. Maybe none."

"So what were they doing at Hogwarts?" Anne's father turned to Dumbledore. "That's what I don't understand!"

"As Theodore said, Mr Fairleigh, we underestimated them. I had hoped that, as students, they could be...persuaded of the error of their ways. I persisted, perhaps, too long in trying. I am sorry that it has brought this on your family."

"Lucky it wasn't worse," Anne and Theo muttered together, exchanging dark glances. They both looked away when the Headmaster and Jonathan Fairleigh turned to them.

"So how did Terry get mixed up in this?"

"I was in one of the rooms set aside for music practice, on the fourth floor," Theo said. It was quite interesting how guilty you could feel over totally innocent things - er, well, things that you shouldn't have to feel guilty about - just because your girlfriend's father was in the room. "Terry'd been practising her 'cello -"

"She's keeping that up? I'm glad."

"_Oh_ yes," Anne said, " she certainly is."

"She got me to help her tune one of the school ones that was out," Theo continued, "and then we were chatting about things." Remembering what those things had been, he added hastily, "But then Ernie Macmillan showed up - one of the Hufflepuff seventh-years - only it wasn't him, of course, it was Blaise Zabini. I should have known." He scowled, remembering. "It was so damned obvious, when I think about it. But I missed it, and he fed me the same line that the other two gave Anne, and...we followed him. The rest...I guess Terry told you."

"Mostly, yes." Anne's father looked at him searchingly. "Why...hurt her, though? She skipped that part."

Anne's lips twitched unwillingly. Theo kept his mouth shut. This wasn't his to say.

"Terry has a, um, very _Gryffindor_ attitude towards these things," Anne explained. "She started...well, she wasn't being _rude_, precisely, but most people held at wand-point by Death Eaters don't start asking them which recipe they used for Polyjuice Potion."

Theo was sure he saw Dumbledore smile at that.

"That sounds like Terry," Jonathan Fairleigh agreed. "The wrong words in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"In the wrong company," Theo felt compelled to add, shifting on his seat.

"Hmm." Anne's father's expression unreadable. "I suppose...Professor Dumbledore, what are the chances of this happening again?"

"_None_," Theo and Anne said together, in very firm tones.

"I would concur." Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Frankly, Mr Fairleigh, if there is further danger to either of your daughters here - it is not one we can guess at. In these times, they are as safe here as they are anywhere. Hogwarts has never fallen, from within or without."

"Touch wood," Anne murmured under her breath, shooting Theo a wry glance.

"That sounds like something you don't want to repeat too often," Jonathan Fairleigh surmised. "Very well. Anne, I'll leave it up to you. I know what Terry will say."

"Leave what up to me?" Anne said, in a puzzled voice.

Theo could guess, and he tensed. If Anne _left_ -

"Do you wish to stay at Hogwarts, Miss Fairleigh?" Dumbledore said, steepling his hands.

"I can't leave Hogwarts!" Anne burst out in tones of utter panic. "I - exams - I mean - Theo - and - I'm a _witch_!"

Theo tried not to smile at being included in that list. It was very easy not to when Jonathan Fairleigh shot him a sharp glance.

"Your mother said you'd say that," he remarked.

"Mum gets it," Anne said glumly. "Er. Not that you don't, Dad."

"I do my best."

Theo looked away. The memories were too raw. _What I would give to hear my father say that..._

"If that is settled, then," Dumbledore said gently, "we had best let you two get down to the Hall before dinner finishes. Unless you have any questions?"

Theo shook his head mutely. _None for you, Headmaster, and none you could answer. _

"Is there anyone else you're giving the benefit of the doubt, Professor?" Anne asked unexpectedly, her voice clear and hard.

Dumbledore regarded her for a long moment. "I feel it is always best to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, Miss Fairleigh. Wouldn't you agree?" His gaze flickered to Theo.

_There was some love, but little policy_, Theo quoted to himself. But Theo himself was not -

_Oh, and Dumbledore had such assurance of your loyalty before last summer. _

_A lot of people have given me the benefit of the doubt this year, haven't they?_

"Not forever," Anne said, retreating to her normal quiet, "not for too long."

"That's harsh, Anne," her father commented. "It's not like you to say that."

"I know."

Theo smiled grimly. _Oh yes. For better or worse, none of us are escaping unscathed. . _

* * *

The last few weeks of the spring term vanished into thin air so quickly that even Theo could almost have sworn magic was involved, and Muggle-born Anne was prepared to swear there was. Although she was equally prepared to credit relief; the disappearance of the worst dangers to Theo (inside Hogwarts) was the talk of the school for weeks, superseded only by Ginny Weasley's return, pale but determined, from St. Mungo's. She would not talk about what had sent her there; neither would her brother, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, or Luna Lovegood, besieged as they were by questioners. Potter finally put a stop to it in DA meetings by announcing that "we can't talk about it. And we won't. So, please, guys, just let it go."

Anne and Theo were singularly less successful. The mystery around their own adventure was deep enough that most people knew far less than they did about Potter and his friends', but it did not stop speculative looks and "casual" questions. Theo returned, grim-faced, from a confrontation with those of his Housemates in seventh-year who remained. Anne gathered that harsh words had passed, but she didn't press too far.

"I don't know if it's better than being ignored, or worse, yet," Theo had said. "But it's safer, any road."

"Why so?"

He'd shaken his head, smiling grimly. "They're not that stupid, and I dropped...a few hints. They don't know it's rubbish, and as long as they don't...Haywood's been helping, too. _No one_ younger wants to get in her way. So I think I'm safe."

"Crabbe and Goyle?" Anne had known the question was foolish.

Theo had snorted. "Without Malfoy, they're not worth bothering about. Too stupid to do anything, not smart enough to try. I don't know why they're in Slytherin at all."

Careful pressure had persuaded Anne's dormmates that she was not going to be murdered the minute she stepped outside their common room alone, at least, not now. Not that they allowed her the freedom she'd once had to come and go unnoticed, but it was better than being accompanied almost everywhere she went. Hogwarts had been acquiring a sort of ghastly claustrophobia over the last few months; the lifting of it was the lifting of a weight in her heart. Terry helped in no little measure by getting herself released from the Hospital Wing the day after the attack and promptly racing her friends Alex and Jake down the corridors, skidding to a halt when their Head of House appeared, falling down the stairs, and breaking her arm. Anne couldn't condone the incident, but Theo, who had witnessed the whole thing, told it in such indignant and disapproving tones that it sent Anne into stitches of laughter. Her wry accusation that Theo had better watch out or he'd start caring what happened to Terry had provoked the withering response that it had nothing to do with _him_, just Anne's foolhardy little Gryffindor of a sister who ought to know better, thank you very much. He was merely trying to ensure that she did not break her neck and upset Anne.

Paradoxically, new-found freedom did not let her see any more of Theo - rather the opposite. The arrival of job application forms, or perhaps the thought that exams were only two months away, had sent all the seventh years deep into a whirl of study and homework. They could all be seen up to their elbows in ink and parchment in the common room, or carrying great stacks of books through the library. Anne wasn't looking forward to her own trial by fire next year with any great pleasure, right at this moment.

There were bleak spots, as well. The war did not cease because three of Voldemort's followers had been driven from Hogwarts. On the contrary. Anne lived with the silent thought that one day soon it might be her and Terry called to the Headmaster's office for the personal imparting of the worst news. A small, fatalistic portion of her considered it only a matter of time. It was the twin of the part of Theo which gave that wry, grim twist to his face whenever he mentioned the O'Neills; the same almost prophetic knowledge of how bad things had become, and just how much worse they would almost certainly get. The only surety or hope they could cling to was that attacks on relatives of Hogwarts students had dropped, because while there were too many half-blood and Muggle-born wizards for the Ministry to protect, they could keep track of those at Hogwarts, and keep track of those most in danger of that group. Anthony Goldstein had worked out that statistically your chances were worst if you were aged between twenty and thirty, with either one or two Muggle parents, and living in the south of England. That summary had gone around Hogwarts within an hour of its mention to one of his Ravenclaw Housemates, and was clung to tenaciously by every non-pure-blood student, which was quite a few. But it wasn't enough, and if Anne had been brought up to be religious, she would have been praying nightly. As it was the idea was tempting.

As a good Hufflepuff Anne could not but approve of Theo's dedication towards his study (or apparent dedication) but it didn't make her any happier about its encroachment on his free time. _Any_ time alone with Theo was to be treasured. Even when discussions took an odd turn, as happened one afternoon.

"It's funny..." Anne mused aloud.

Theo shot her a look that questioned her sanity. "You can find anything funny right now?"

"Ironic?" Anne hazarded. "Amusing? Interesting? Noteworthy?"

"Yes, point taken. What's...interesting?"

"How Muggles aren't really that different from u-" Anne snapped her mouth shut.

There was an odd smile on Theo's face. "No...no, they aren't. In most ways."

Anne groaned, and buried her face in her hands. "I was not going to say that. I wasn't. That's not what I meant!"

"Isn't it?"

"You're not helping, Theo!"

"So?"

Anne scowled up at him. "You know that wasn't what I meant. I meant - it's strange how _wizards_ aren't that different from _Muggles_. That's what I meant."

Theo squeezed her shoulder. "You're one of us, that's all there is to it. Don't spend too much time worrying about it."

"You are insufferably arrogant, Theodore Nott," Anne muttered darkly.

He hesitated. "Was I being?"

Anne's mouth twitched. "Yes."

Theo shrugged. "Ah, well."

Anne contemplated hitting him, and thought of a better revenge. "What I was _going_ to say, before you interrupted me, is that my father was right."

"About what?" Theo said, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. Anne smiled sweetly. "Teenage boys are always afraid of fathers, wizard or Muggle. There's some circuit in your brains that trips the panic button."

Theo straightened, protesting indignantly. "I was not afraid of your father!"

"No, you seemed very comfortable."

He pushed his hair up off his forehead, muttering. "I was, thank you very much."

"Glad to hear it."

He gave her a dark look, but Anne just grinned. "I told you it was interesting."

She thought she caught the words "bloody Hufflepuffs", but chose to ignore them.

"How are your Housemates taking things?"

Theo relaxed, apparently sensing the needling was over. "As you said. Interesting. The power struggles are quite something to watch, with the vacuum Malfoy left."

"To watch?" Anne cocked an eyebrow.

"What's to struggle for?" He shrugged. "One term of feeling superior? It's not worth it. Besides, I'm still a pariah, just not in mortal danger. Estella Haywood seems to be doing quite well for herself, so far. If she plays her cards right no one will be able to stop her."

"How wonderful."

Theo's lips quirked. "For her it is. Being a half-blood in Slytherin isn't exactly _fun_, you know."

"I don't imagine it would be. Estella isn't a very...fun person."

"Those aren't quite the words I'd use."

"Oh?"

"Cold-blooded, cold-hearted , er...person."

"I thought you felt sorry for her."

"I have an appreciation of the difficulties of her position. I'm not going to waste actual emotion on her."

Anne looked at him levelly. "Sometimes, Theo, you're..."..._a cold-hearted...person yourself_, she thought, but "not very nice," was what she said.

"So far, I haven't observed nice getting anyone anywhere fast."

Anne snorted. "As far as I was aware, it's the only way to get anywhere with _me_ at any speed at all."

"I'll make a note of it," Theo said in a way that caused Anne to review what she'd said.

"You know what I meant," she added.

Theo just smiled. "_I_ always know what you mean."

"I'd be surprised," Anne returned. "Anyway, you should still be too scared from meeting my father to be..."

"To be what?"

Anne coughed. "Um...never mind."

"No, really, what was I doing?"

That did deserve physical violence, so Anne swatted him on the arm. "I thought you always knew what I meant?"

"Can I have clarification?"

"Absolutely _not_," Anne said, losing the fight with herself to laugh and not attempting to fight Theo at all.

* * *

Theo was being reminded heavily of the differences between the Houses. It was all coming out in his classmates' attitudes towards exams. Hannah Abbot, as she had done the previous two years, was working herself into a nervous wreck. Ernie seemed to think that if you were getting more than three hours' sleep a night, you weren't studying hard enough. No Slytherin would be caught dead actually working, including Theo, but they were all incredibly difficult to locate for reasons they did not choose to make clear to lesser mortals. Including Theo. Cunning and stealing everyone else's notes and listening to Granger explain things to Weasley in the library were all legitimate and useful methods of preparing for exams, but the professors took the view that the best preparation was practice. Which meant essays were due in every class, and unfortunately those actually had to be written. Professor McGonagall, for instance, did not take any excuses and had simply announced that anyone who did not hand in their essays was wasting her time and theirs and would please cease coming to class, since they obviously did not wish to be there. It was a surprisingly effective threat. Nobody _wanted_ to fail.

The Hufflepuff ethos, unlike the Slytherin, did not espouse working on one's own and pretending you weren't, but studying in groups. Theo wasn't entirely sure of the merits of this, but found it enjoyable to be able to do so from time to time. It had begun a few days after the...incident with Malfoy. Theo had not had a chance to speak to the Hufflepuffs, but knew he owed them thanks for coming after him when they'd realised something was up. So when he saw Ernie and his Housemates in the library one Saturday afternoon, he joined their table.

"Hello," Justin said. "Anything interesting been happening lately?"

"Thank God, no, and I hope it stays that way," Theo told him bluntly. "I hope your lives have been equally boring."

Ernie sighed. "I wish they had been."

It didn't take an idiot to pick up on the clue. "Where's Bones got to?"

"Why do _you_ want to know?" Zacharias Smith retorted. Theo had long since learned to ignore him.

"Curiosity," he said.

"Her parents," Hannah Abbott said glumly. "Yesterday. We couldn't get her out of the dorm. And I don't know what she'll do, it's exams so soon, and all this _work_-"

"Now, Hannah, she'll cope," Ernie reassured his fellow prefect. "She always does."

Theo's lips twisted. "How many of us is that orphaned, now? Half?"

"It couldn't be _that_ many," Justin said uneasily.

"That, or dead." Smith scowled. "Too many. And _you're_ not."

"Smith, you don't know anything about my family, so I suggest you keep your mouth shut on the subject," Theo told him. "Unless you have nothing better to do."

"Really, we've got enough going on without fighting between ourselves," Ernie admonished.

"Indeed," Theo muttered, but took the hint and got on with his work. Smith wasn't worth his time.

He remembered the reason he'd come over just as they were all getting up to go down to dinner.

"By the way -" The comment got Ernie and Justin's attention; Theo was silent more often than not in their company. "Thank-you. For showing up last week."

"Had to investigate, it's my responsibility," Ernie brushed it off. "No problem at all."

Justin shrugged. "Couldn't let you get killed on school grounds, could we?"

"Of course not," Theo agreed dryly. "Tell Susan thank-you, as well, and -" What could you say?

"She knows everyone in the DA supports her," Ernie said. "Or I hope she does. Poor girl."

"Poor everyone," Justin muttered.

"_Damn_ the war," Theo said under his breath. Another blameless student hurt by this war. Every attack on someone he knew made Theo feel sick; who would it be next time? And who had done it?

And what would he do, once Hogwarts was no longer his refuge?

"Amen to that," Ernie said aloud. "Amen."

* * *

What letters she'd been getting from Eddie had been coming mostly through Terry, so Anne was pleasantly surprised to get one directly from him one Monday morning. She had to rush to her Arithmancy class, but she stopped at the Gryffindor table. Terry was often hard to find, being so small and so fast-moving, but for once she was in a visible and accessible spot.

" - look at the glasses, okay?" Terry was saying. "If the pumpkin juice is in front of the milk, then it's offside, but -"

Anne tapped her on the shoulder. "Terry?"

"Hmm?" Terry looked up. "I'm trying to explain to Cait about offside in football."

"I won't keep you, I've got to dash. Letter from Ed and Nic just came today. Can you meet me in the library after dinner?"

"We've got detention," Terry's friend Jake piped up. "With Professor Sinistra."

"Terry," Anne said warningly.

Her sister had the grace to blush. "It was an accident. See, Alex and me -"

Anne glanced towards the door. "Look, I do have to go. I'll try and find you at lunch." She only got a couple of steps away before looking back. "What could you do in _Astronomy_?"

Terry's friend Alex waved a casual hand. "Er...there were Slytherins there. And...stuff happened."

Anne shook her head. "Terry, I don't know. Keep out of trouble today."

The last was delivered over her shoulder at a fair pace. Professor Vector locked the classroom to any latecomers and made them wait outside until _she_ was ready for them to come in; Anne didn't have the courage to do as one of her Gryffindor classmates had done in fourth-year and unlock the door. It was a trick that only worked once.

She made it in the nick of time, sliding into the seat beside Dave Hewitt and Brian Lochore, the only other Hufflepuffs. "Sorry, Professor, had to talk to my sister."

"Very well." At least good behaviour won you the benefit of the doubt where Vector was concerned. Someone like Snape would have had Anne up by the heels in no time. "As I was _saying_, class, we're moving on today with imaginary numbers -"

Well, sarcasm was a small price to pay.

Anne knew Theo was definitely a bad influence when she gave up the fight against temptation and started reading Eddie's letter under the desk. Brian gave her a disapproving stare but she managed to ignore him. It wasn't as if he'd tell on her.

_Dear Anne and Terry, _the letter began,

_The last we heard you were very busy studying for your end-of-year exams so we don't expect a letter back anytime soon. _Anne winced. She had been slacking. _We hope things are not as exciting as Mum and Dad make them sound at Hogwarts - Nicola says she likes exciting things but you know what we mean. I don't know if you'd heard this from them but there was quite a big fight a few weeks ago after Dad had to go and visit you. _Anne bit her lip. Of course she hadn't heard. _Dad was a bit upset about you wanting to stay but you know him, he didn't want to let you _know_ he was upset in case it changed your mind. Stupid, we know you're too bloody stubborn for that _It's Nic, tell Eddie off for using bad words! _Thank you Nicola, I'll keep the pen from now on. Mum wouldn_'t _hear about you leaving. She said that it wasn't your fault and you shouldn't lose out because other people were doing the wrong thing, and if you left you'd be giving in. Dad said something about your boyfriend and how he hoped that wasn't "influencing your decision", and Mum said why shouldn't it since "it wasn't his fault, either, and he seems like a perfectly nice boy." Dad said something to the effect that he remembered being that age and perfectly nice was only to a degree. As far as I'm concerned, it's your life. Even if he is a prat. _

Anne had to stop at this point to copy notes off the board, but managed covert glimpses while waiting for the teacher to write up the next section.

_They haven't said anything else though so I think you're OK. _We're _almost grounded. I tried telling Mum that those Death-people can't hurt us if they don't know where we are and they're more likely to find us at home but will she listen? _I don't want them to find us anywhere. _I'll add my vote to Nic's on that one. I hope that Portkey thing of yours works if anything happens. But don't panic; I haven't seen anything, or heard anything. Cricket's starting up again so I have to go to practices. Nic is going to sit a Grade 1 piano exam and my ears are getting sore, she's practising so much. _That's not nice _oh shut up Nic. I have to sit my GCSEs soon and English lit looks AWFUL. I don't know why I took it. Ruddy Austen. History's better, at least all the stuff about the wars is interesting. Not your wars. Ours are all safely in the past, where I hope they stay. _

_I won't ask about your study since I don't know any of it but, Terry, try not to get into more trouble because you know Dad hates it when you get detentions. Anne, you stay out of trouble too since you seem to manage enough of it. _Come home soon. _Just think, after exams are over you get to see us again (hah, like they'll ever be over.) _

_Much love,_

_Eddie _and Nicola.

Alerted by a hissed warning from Dave, Anne shoved the letter under her textbook just in time.  
"Miss Fairleigh, what was your answer?"

Anne almost panicked but was saved by her notes. "It indicates a logical failure in the spell, Professor?"

"And that means, Mr. Lochore?"

"Your theoretical basis is wrong," Brian filled in calmly. He was blessed with a memory like an elephant. "You have to start over."

"Quite. Five points to Hufflepuff. Now..."

Anne relaxed. The theory of spell-building was one of the more interesting aspects of Arithmancy (and the reason it attracted a large number of Muggle-borns who wanted to know how magic worked) but lack of attention was lethal. It wasn't like Care of Magical Creatures, a place for gossip; miss one link and you were lost. She should have known better than to read the letter there, but it had been too tempting.

_I'm glad we weren't home for _that_ argument. Strange. Mum was the one who had all the reservations about me coming to Hogwarts; Dad was the one who was all for it. What made them swap places on that?_

_Sounds like home's safe enough, though. Eddie and his exams. Maybe I'll steal his history textbooks and make Theo read them. "Some war in the forties". That was classic. The Battle of the Somme was probably "some Muggle argument a while ago". His Muggle history starts and ends with the Wars of the Roses. _

_Eddie has no idea about war, though. Ours is happening right now. And I have this feeling we're moving towards a battle. It seems like the last place left for it to come is Hogwarts. "Hogwarts has never fallen." Hah. How many places was that said of before they fell?  
But, please, if anyone's listening... not today. Or tomorrow, or next Wednesday, or next month or next year. _

_For one day at a time. Not today._


	20. Prelude

Chapter Twenty - Prelude

Anne was given a break from her exam nerves (and Theo's) when a crisis of a distinctly more commonplace kind erupted in her dormitory. Sarah had a stormy fight with Jeremy over some minor incident that Anne never entirely got to the bottom of and came storming in one night as Anne was brushing her hair.

"Sarah?" Ellie asked, sitting up in her bed. In the mirror, Anne could see Sarah pale-faced and red-eyed, arms folded tightly over her chest.

"Nothing important," Sarah sniffed, shaking her head stubbornly. "It's not."

"You don't look upset at all," Mai said laconically, turning a page of her magazine.

"I'm not," Sarah replied stiffly. She sat down on her bed, jaw set. "I'm fine."

Anne laid her hairbrush down on the dresser. Sarah looked awful, not fine. But not so many months ago it had been _Anne_ hunched on her bed crying because Sarah held grudges.

_That's not fair, it isn't. It doesn't stop her being upset _now.

"Was it Jeremy, Sarah?" Anne asked the mirror.

Sarah met her eyes in it, glaring. "How do you know that?"

Anne turned around to face her in truth. "It seemed likely."

Sarah held the glare for a few moments more, then sighed, leaning against a bedpost. "It's too hard. I can't be a prefect _and_ do all my work _and_ not get mad at him. He's a prefect as well, he should know. _I_ should've known better. I give up."

"It'll be all right." Ellie got out of bed and came to sit beside Sarah. "You've done this before, remember? Exams are what's important now, don't worry about Jeremy."

"That's just it," Sarah wailed, "I should have known better!"

"Too damned right," Mai muttered, ignoring the hysterics. Anne frowned at her.

"It isn't worth worrying about, Sarah. Don't. You do enough for all of us."

Sarah picked at a loose thread on her quilt. "You manage."

Anne shook her head. "I barely see Theo these days, with his NEWTs coming up. No one has enough energy for...that sort of thing. Between the war, and school."

"What sort of thing?" Mai said sharply.

Ellie lobbed a pillow at her. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Mai, those magazines are dragging it in there."

Anne felt her cheeks reddening. _Not that there's anything to be embarrassed about. Really.  
Really. _

"People. Relationships. Anything, apart from school."

"Gabby would never have let you hear the end of that," Sarah commented vaguely. "You know that."

"Gabby liked substance in her gossip," Ellie tossed back, "Anne and her Slytherin are too boring for words. No fights. No being caught in broom closets. Nothing to catch Gabby's attention."

"Some of us like to keep our disagreements private," Anne said with some asperity, then remembered why this conversation was happening. "I'm sorry, Sarah."

"Never mind." Sarah looked up, swiping a sleeve across her face. "How long have you been seeing him, Anne?"

"A year. No - a little over," Anne told her honestly, sitting down and pulling her slippers off.

"How do you know you're in love with him?"

_What makes you say that? _was the first response that sprang to mind, but she owed Sarah more honesty than that. _I'm not_ would turn away questions equally well, but it was even more false. Ellie and Sarah were watching her openly; even Mai had put down her magazine.

"I don't know," Anne said finally. "I don't know if I can know, yet."

Ellie snorted. "Rubbish. What d'you call it, then?"

Anne hooked an arm around the bedpost, thinking. "It's a very big question, that's all."

_And none of your business._

Sarah laughed, a sort of muffled half-sob. "Anne, don't be silly. There's nothing else that would make you so damned stubborn."

"That's not fair," Mai said unexpectedly, "Jeremy isn't responsible for your temper. Anne's who she is with Nott or without him."

"Thanks for that," Anne said dryly, "I was having a personality crisis."

Mai looked at her sideways. "Right."

Sarah heaved another great sigh. "Fine. I give up, then."

"You give up on what?" Anne said, pulling her covers back.

"Trying to stop you." Sarah shrugged. "There's no point, is there? Mai's right. You are who you are."

Anne bit her lip. Did disagreements really just slide into nothingness this way, or would Sarah be bitter again tomorrow morning?

_Do you really want to leave things as they are?_

"So are you, Sarah. And we're your friends none the less for it."

Sarah had the grace to blush. "I want to keep you safe." She looked around. "All of you. I have to. And I couldn't keep Gabby safe. You...you're _my_ responsibility. I don't care if that's not what being a prefect is about. I think it is. It's my job."

"You do a great job, Sarah," Ellie said reassuringly, patting her on the shoulder before rising to return to her own bed. "We know."

"Thanks," Anne said suddenly. _One less thing to worry over. There's enough conflict around. _

Sarah smiled, uneasily, but still a smile. "I'm not going to cry over spilt potions."

"So what did Jeremy actually _do_?" Mai said out of the blue, scrunching up the magazine. "Was it that bad?"

"He said I'd been ignoring him." Sarah blew out her beside candle; the others followed suit one by one. "And I said I'd been busy, and he should know since he's a Prefect too, and if he wanted a pretty face then he could go and find one."

"Then what?" Ellie's voice came out of the darkness.

"He said there were lots of prettier faces than mine."

There was a wincingly appreciative silence. Anne snuggled into her pillows, hiding a smile.

"He's a prat," Mai declared.

"You didn't hex him, did you?" Anne asked.

"Of course not!" Sarah exclaimed. "I - maybe he didn't _mean_ to say it, but that was it. I've given him enough chances."

Anne knew what that meant, from Sarah, but if Sarah felt it, then it was true enough to end the relationship. Which was probably to everyone's benefit.

"Someone decent wouldn't say that," Ellie agreed.

"It's not fair," Sarah said glumly, "no decent blokes around anyway and this wretched war's killing them all."

"It better not!" Anne couldn't help saying.

"I'm sure your Theodore will be safe," Ellie said, chuckling.

"He's a Slytherin, he can probably look after himself." Sarah's voice held an edge of distaste.

"I think he can," Anne agreed.

_I hope. _

* * *

The last two weeks before exams were marked by a sudden lull in the war. It was as if it had never happened; no Dark Marks scarred the night sky, no attacks were observed anywhere. The joke quickly went round Hogwarts that the Death Eaters were stopping for exams; it didn't strike Theo as particularly funny. The strange gap had begun after word spread that Harry Potter's Muggle relatives had been killed. From Potter's face, it had been hard to tell. According to rumour this marked some sort of watershed, since magic had kept Voldemort from attacking Potter at his home for nearly seventeen years. Theo doubted that; if it was true, why would the magic have ceased? It wasn't as if Dumbledore had dropped dead of a heart attack, or anything of that nature. More likely the Dark Lord had simply not known where to find Potter until now. The Ministry had placed a lockdown on all records, and the Death Eaters were finding it harder and harder to locate the families they wished to kill. Those who lived in wizarding areas were in far more danger, since their neighbours were more likely to include a Death Eater or two who would know them for valid targets.

In a way, the silence was worse than the daily fear that tomorrow it would be someone you cared for, because every day screwed the tension tighter and tighter. A comment from Callum in one of Monique's letters said it best to Theo: "_We're all holding our breath, and the longer we wait, the worse we know the outcome will be. I wonder if they realise how effective a weapon this is? The absence of terror creates more hideous monsters in our minds than terror can." _

Exams proceeded, all the same, living up to their name of Nastily Exhausting and giving Theo definite nightmares about whether he'd qualify for the job he'd applied for at Gringotts. In the pressure-cooker, even the threat of silence faded - but not entirely.

The storm broke three days before Theo's last exam (practical Transfiguration.) It was about seven o'clock, and the common room was at its fullest with Slytherins studying, arguing, playing, and talking. The first was hard enough at the noise level, but the seventh-years could simply shut out the sound. Theo chose to dim it only, as both a test of skill and a practical measure. He didn't want anyone creeping up on him.

So, unlike Daphne and Millicent who were oblivious to the outside world in their corner, Theo heard the silence fall. He twisted his head to glance back at the door, on the opposite side of the room to his chair. Snape was standing in front of it, looking murderous. This was a more unusual situation than, say, a Gryffindor might be aware, so Theo cancelled the enclosing spells with a muttered "_Finite Incantem"_ and listened.

"From now there is a curfew for every student in the school," Snape began without preamble. "I do not care how old you are; none of you are to leave the House until advised otherwise by a teacher. Any...forgetfulness _will_ be treated as deliberate disobedience." It was that anyway, but the distinction was a fine one in Slytherin. "All prefects are to go to the Headmaster's office for a briefing by the Head Boy and Girl." The four sixth and fifth year prefects rose from their various seats. No one had been appointed to replace Draco and Pansy, and Theo doubted there would be, with only a few weeks of term to run. Besides, Millicent, Crabbe and Goyle lacked the requisite intelligence, Daphne was too shy, and Theo himself would have as much chance of controlling his Housemates as controlling the Death Eaters.

"Also," Snape continued, "these students are to accompany me immediately: Alicia Davies, Jeffrey Fawcett, Henry Quirke, Devan Chidu, James Thompson, Estella Haywood, and Theodore Nott."

Theo could not halt a sharp intake of breath. That list compromised all the Muggle-borns in Slytherin, the most notable half-bloods, and...himself. The connotations were obvious, and obviously disturbing.

Estella, who had been holding court over by one of the fireplaces, was as expressionless as ever. Her gaze flicked briefly to Theo, as they both rose to follow Snape, but it didn't take long to acknowledge what they both knew. Quirke, who Theo recalled seeing at Malfoy's introductory speech last September, was plainly afraid. His sister had died in Hogsmeade. So had Alicia's. The silence was beginning to be penetrated by the hiss and murmur of whispers, as the power brokers began to reassess things in light of this change.

_Haywood's going to have to move fast once she gets back,_ Theo thought dispassionately, _and Fawcett, too. Alicia Davies is too young to worry much about that sort of thing yet; Thompson and the others...Muggle-borns have never had a hope in hell, here. They know that. _

Snape's dark gaze silenced the whispers until the small column had left the common room, but Theo heard it starting up as the door closed behind them. He shoved his notes into his pocket; no way he could have left them there. They would have been gone long before he'd returned.

Assessment of the changes in the power structure could only occupy him for the first few steps. Then the fears he had ignored for so long roared back.

_Monique and Callum - please, let it not be them. I need _adults_ around who I can trust. Catriona I've met only once, Liam never, Jan's still a wreck by all accounts. Jan and Evan. They're most likely, with their narrow escape. It wouldn't be fair. It wouldn't. Or Anne's family. That would kill her, and where would she go? More Muggle relatives, more targets? It can't be, I need her to be untouched by this, as long as she can be, I need a point of reference that won't shatter and shift..._

"Are our families all right, Professor?" Quirke piped up in the grim silence.

Estella laughed harshly. "Don't be an idiot, Quirke."

Snape didn't scold her. He'd always stepped around the power plays, as if wishing the students to sort them out. "You will see, Mr Quirke. I don't know specifics."

"It can't be, not after Tracey..." Alicia Davies was grey-faced. Only twelve, and her older sister dead not four months ago; the Hogsmeade attack seemed like ancient history.

"It will all be taken care of," sixth-year prefect Julius Fudge asserted in a confident and somewhat sinister manner (under the circumstances.) Even an incompetent idiot of an uncle could not remove the status her pure blood afforded him, and he was not overly friendly towards those who did not share it.

_And I am? _Theo reflected bleakly. _What's that proverb Salazar himself supposedly made up? "Never take a Slytherin at face value, unless you like feeling foolish. "Even if it wasn't him, it fits. _

"How many dead that you know of, sir?" Estella asked bluntly.

Snape's mouth twisted. An unusual display of emotion; Theo saw Fudge's eyes narrow. Triumph was what Snape was supposed to display under these circumstances, carefully not-quite-hidden. Was it _that_ bad that Snape could not help but risk breaking cover?

"At least forty," he replied flatly. Donald Fawcett went white; Alicia Davies bit her lip, stumbling. "But more alive than dead."

"Alive," Theo heard himself say, "can be just as bad. In some circumstances."

Snape favoured him with a long look. "Feeling pessimistic, Mr Nott?"

"Expect the worst, and you'll always be pleasantly surprised," Theo tossed back. "Unless, of course, you lack sufficient imagination."

He won the flicker of a smile, if a bitter one. Another very rare occurrence. "Indeed."

Theo wondered where they were actually going as they got to the Entrance Hall. The prefects had split off to go upstairs to Dumbledore's office. That was the traditional venue for announcements of tragedy; it suggested bleak hope that Theo had not been directed there. The doors to the Great Hall stood open, and the noise emerging sounded as loud as the very worst meal-times, except with that curfew Theo knew there could not be that many people in there.

As it turned out, he was wrong. There were even more, more than he'd ever seen, and not clad in the uniform black of students, either. There were robes of every colour and style, adults and children of all ages, with Muggle clothing predominating. The group of Slytherins ground to a halt in the doorway, staring.

"Go to the House table." Snape had to raise his voice to be heard. Now he looked, Theo could see students dotted among the crowd, talking earnestly to family. "Your families will be there. They can tell you what happened."

Alicia Davies put up a hand. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"I can't see my family."

Snape, unaccountably, paused. "Then...you are not looking hard enough, Miss Davies."

"And if they _aren't_ there?" Estella interjected coolly.

"Then they are dead!" Snape snapped.

Alicia Davies looked ready to faint, but Estella, never one to miss an opportunity to build her power base, steadied her. "Come on, Davies, we'll go and look."

"Sir, my sister is - was in Ravenclaw," little Henry Quirke quavered, "would my family get sent there?"

"Use your brain, Mr Quirke," Snape said cuttingly, recovering his balance. He whipped around in a bat-like swirl of robes and departed.

Theo had to steel himself to look at the Slytherin table, taking in the rest of the Hall first. He felt a jolt of relief to hear Terry's high-pitched voice rise momentarily about the crowd, "Nic, of course you're not..." The rest was lost in the noise. A few seconds' work located Anne at the Hufflepuff table, attired incongruously in a blue dressing-gown, talking earnestly to her brother. Theo could not see the rest of her family through the mass of people, but the sight of Justin Finch-Fletchley being hugged by a plump woman in a green cardigan (and looking much put-upon) was equally reassuring.

"Theo!" The sound of his name made him jump, and he looked over to the Slytherin table to see Jan Hayle, of all people, waving at him. Thank heavens, Monique's tall figure was visible behind her holding Evan.

Callum was nowhere to be seen.

Theo hurried over, breaking into a run. "You're here!"

"Oh yes," Jan agreed. She looked much thinner than the last time Theo had seen her, in August, and her normally neat hair fell messily to her waist. "Better here than back home, at the moment."

"Where-" Theo began, but Monique interrupted him. "Callum's over at the Hufflepuff table, networking." She chuckled. "Says he hasn't seen this many old friends around in years."  
"Thank God." Theo dropped onto the bench beside Jan, the adrenaline receding. "He had me worried."

"Fair enough too," Jan said. She looked down at the table-top. "So many deaths."

"I'm sorry," Theo said, then, "You probably hear enough of that."

"Thank-you, anyway." She looked up. "I'm luckier than most."

"Grandma, why are we here?" Evan piped up. Monique had put him down, and he had clambered up to perch on the table next to his mother. "Is it because the bad people came to our house again?"

Monique seated herself on the bench beside him. "Yes. But we're safe here."

"Did they come to your and Granddad's house too?"

"Yes."

Evan turned to look at Theo. "I 'member you, you're my cousin Theodore. We visited you at Grandma and Granddad's." His face fell. "Lee and Daddy were there too."

"That's right," Theo said, clearing his throat. "I remember that. It was a long time ago."

"Very long time," Evan agreed sadly. "That was nice, when they were still there."

Jan, calm, capable Jan, seemed on the verge of tears, but pulled herself together.

"In case you're wondering," she told Theo briskly, "Liam's out on duty tonight, but as far as we know he's all right. Cat's in America with the Harpies - those demonstration games in their all-women league - did she write to you?"

"She did, actually, but I'd almost forgotten. Best place for her to be right now."

"If we leave, they win," Monique reminded him. "They're not forcing _me_ from my country."

"The thought hadn't occurred," Theo said, but of course it had. No small attraction in applying to work for Gringotts was that they often sent people overseas - and if Anne was going to be at Hogwarts for the next year, well, a letter from Russia, say, was the same as a letter from London, wasn't it? He liked the isle of Britain, but he liked being alive to like it, too.

Evan was beginning to droop - Theo supposed it was past his bedtime, whatever that was - and slipped down from the table onto the bench. He cuddled up to his mother, who put an arm around him.

"So what actually happened?" Theo asked. "No one's told us."

Monique sighed. "What we expected. The Death Eaters launched a massive, co-ordinated attack. It must have stretched their resources, from the number of people here."

"The Portkeys brought people here," Theo guessed. "For Muggle-born students' families?"

Jan nodded. "In one. Not just Muggle-born students, though - the students most at risk. Which is why me, and Mum and Dad. Cat and Liam too. But there are all the families who weren't enough at risk to spare the time to make one for..."

"...and all the ones who couldn't reach it in time, or only some of them reached it. Or who don't have a child at Hogwarts." Monique shook her head. "Tonight will be marked as an unhappy one, I think."

The twenty-fourth of June. Three years ago, Harry Potter had stumbled back wounded from the Triwizard maze, carrying Cedric Diggory's body with him and babbling of the Dark Lord's return. Three years ago, Theo had realised that his days of momentary unease were drawing to a close, and a darker choice was now inevitable. So he'd thrown himself into music, and school, and anything else that would prove a distraction...

...so he'd met Anne one rainy afternoon, and all the distractions had been rendered meaningless by one timid Hufflepuff.

Funny how your world could turn on the smallest things.

Behind Monique, Theo could see the other Slytherins who had been summoned clinging to their families, as much as Slytherins did; there were so few of them, compared to the other Houses. Estella Haywood sat, tight-lipped, beside a grey-eyed man who had to be her father. No other family was in sight, and Theo knew she was not - had not been - an only child, or lacking a parent. The other five, as far as he could see, were speaking with the expressions of those who have found a reprieve. Alicia Davies huddled at the end of the table, sobbing.

She was alone.

In any other House, she might have had company; in any other House, her Head of House would be with her; in any other House, she would not be...but Slytherin was not any other House, and even Theo, who had chosen to give up his closest family, felt a moment of anger. Everything the Dark Lord stood for, it seemed, could be coalesced into that weeping child.

Jan turned to see what he was looking at. "Ah...poor girl."

Monique smiled wryly. "Cat and Liam never thought Professor Snape was much good at that sort of thing."

"Well!" Jan's exclamation was sharp. She carefully detached her now-dozing son onto her mother, and rose. "We'll see about that, then!"

She marched off towards Alicia Davies with grim purpose. Theo met Monique's eyes with a smile.

"She needs things to do," Monique said. "She's been too lonely."

"You know," Theo said, changing the subject completely, "her sister-in-law was in my - my girlfriend's dorm? Funny. These odd connections."

Monique nodded, smoothing her grandson's hair. "The wizarding world is so small, compared to the Muggle one. I've noticed that a lot, meeting Callum's family."

Callum's voice came from behind Theo, as cheerful as ever. "What's that about my family?"

"There's more than six degrees of separation in the Muggle world, is what I was saying," Monique replied. "Seen all your friends?"

"And a half!" Callum shook his head. "Didn't realised how many of them had kids at Hogwarts; amazing what a difference a few years either way makes. A few of them weren't there, too." He sobered. "Dan Griffith's youngest are there - the twins, Caleb and Emily, they're sixth-years now - no idea what to do. He hasn't shown up, nor his wife, and with her a Muggle...Professor Flitwick's just talking to them now."

Monique hissed. "Dan and Patty, gone! That's not fair. I should go and...Take Evan, will you?"

Callum adroitly swapped places with her, barely disturbing Evan. "Where's Jan got to?"

Theo nodded to the other end of the table, where Jan could be seen with her arm around a still-crying Alicia. "One of our second-years...her older sister got killed back in February, and her family aren't here. Snape's off somewhere, so she was all by herself, and Jan got huffy."

"Good on her." Callum yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. "Excuse me; it's only nine, too. It's been a busy night so far."

Theo frowned at the table, where some long-forgotten couple's love had been commemorated with a pen-knife. "You Hufflepuffs are all so good at...at _people_."

Callum laughed, softly. "That's what our House is all about. I've known some pretty smooth Slytherins, too. Look at Fudge, glad-handling his way into the top spot."

Theo shook his head. "That's not what I meant. You're good at being _nice_ to people."

"We try." Callum halted Evan's slow slide onto the floor. "Would you like to be?"

Theo snorted. "Of course not."

"Why not?" Callum's friendly curiosity was only proving Theo's point, Theo thought wryly.

"Because," Theo told him, "I'd have to be nice to people."

Callum grinned. "Ah. I do see."

Theo thought, with a momentary flash of wistfulness, that his father would have understood, too.

"Do you know what's supposed to happen next?" he said to cover it, looking around.

Callum shrugged. "Not the faintest. I imagine they're waiting until everybody's here who's coming, and that could take all night. What they'll do with us then...we'll be here for a day, at least, since this is all so very unofficial and so very effective. A couple more groups arrived while I was at the Hufflepuff table; nobody else here?"

"No." Jan was talking quietly to Alicia now. Suddenly, the girl froze, staring with wide eyes at the door behind Theo; in the time it took him to turn and look, she had torn herself off the bench and was racing at full speed towards them.

She was met with equal force by a running figure even smaller than her, a boy not more than ten years old. Alicia knelt to embrace him, hugging him fiercely.

"That's better," Callum said quietly, but Theo knew it wasn't, quite.

"Look around," he said. "Where are her parents? Her older brother?"

"I see," Callum said, after a moment. Alicia had her hands on her brother's shoulders, and was questioning him urgently, eyes locked onto his face. The boy shook his head, and then his face crumpled. Alicia clutched him, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks as well, as her hopes were finally dashed.

Jan arrived a few moments later to lead the orphaned children to the table and get them sitting down. From all appearances, Snape got an earful when he turned up for not seeing to his student sooner, and for once, Theo saw his Head of House taken aback. And annoyed. Theo winced, knowing he would catch every bit of Snape's temper towards his cousin; Snape never had been discriminatory like that.

"Oops," Callum said, sounding amused. "Jan does that, from time to time."

"I think everyone would _like_ to, from time to time, and it's hardly as if he can take points from Hufflepuff."

"Probably why she's doing it. She's canny enough to wait for her revenge." Callum laughed at the look on Theo's face. "You lot don't have the monopoly on cunning, you know."

"I know," Theo admitted. Family; love them or hate them, you needed them. He could not wipe out the guilt for the family he'd abandoned, nor the fear engendered by what had brought them here tonight - but he was suddenly, immeasurably grateful for what he had been allowed. "I know." __

* * *

Anne would have run all the way to the Great Hall if Professor Sprout had let her once she had been summoned with that message of dread and doom. Ellie and Jack Mitchell had also been asked to come, of those in her year, with Jeremy and Sarah along as prefects. Sarah had given Anne a quick hug before she left with Jeremy, telling Anne "I know they'll be fine."

Anne hadn't believed it, and had not believed her own eyes when she'd seen her too-tall brother rise laconically from the Hufflepuff table - Eddie, at Hogwarts, it _was_ unbelievable - and say "Well, took me a while, but I got here in the end."

"I don't like Portkeys," Nic had announced from beside him. "They make you feel sick."

Anne had thrown herself at her family, hugging each of them in turn. They were all there, impossibly, her mother and father and siblings. Dad was at the Gryffindor table with Terry, talking to some of the other Muggle parents; Mum sat with Eddie and Nic.

"I was so scared," Anne blurted out as she embraced her mother, "I thought, that was it, it was my turn..."

"It was closer than I like to think," Mary Fairleigh admitted, "it was just lucky we were all upstairs and your father was looking out the window."

"_I_ wasn't," Eddie said pointedly, "I only just made it in. What's that spell with green light, Anne? Went over my head and hit the wall on the stairs."

Anne dropped onto the bench, her legs unable to support her. "The Killing Curse. My God. Eddie, are you all right?"

He just shrugged. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Oh." Anne sagged against the table. "Too close. You're right, Mum. That _was_ too close."

"What would've happened if we hadn't come here?" Nic said, frowning.

"Nothing nice," her mother told her, putting an arm around her. "But we're here, so it doesn't matter."

"Would they kill us?" Nic asked in a very small voice.

Her mother paused. "I-"

"Yes," Anne said, too stunned for dissembling, "but Mum's right. You're here, you're safe."

"Oh." Nic bit her lip. "That's bad."

"Never mind." Eddie gripped her shoulder reassuringly. "Any Death Eaters show up, and I'll punch them for you, okay?"

"Oh, okay." Nicola relaxed. "That Death Eater couldn't hurt us, could he? You stopped him, you and Anne."

"That we did," Anne agreed, but her mother's frown said she knew better.

"Everything all right, Anne?" Hannah Abbott said, walking down the table. "Your family all here? I saw your father with your sister."

"Yes, thanks, they're fine." Anne saw Hannah was pale. "You..."

Mutely, Hannah shook her head. "I...I can't find them. But it's not important. I have to make sure everyone's okay. I'm a Prefect. I have to. I have to keep -" She clamped her lips shut, pulling herself together. "Justin, Mr and Mrs Finch-Fletchley, I'm glad to see you're here."

Ernie came in her wake, and Anne grabbed his sleeve. "Ernie?" She lowered her voice. "Hannah's on the edge, I think. Is Susan around?"

"In the dormitory, with the curfew. I'll see to it." Ernie frowned. "How many of the rest of us have you seen?"

"Only Justin and Hannah, so far. So many have lost family already..."

Ernie nodded. "The Patils are at the Gryffindor table with their mother; I think she was widowed in the First War. Hermione Granger's parents are both here. The Weasleys, of course. I don't know about any others. Anyway. Must get going. Glad to see you're here, Mrs Fairleigh."

"Ernie Macmillan," Anne told her family in low tones, "prefect. Perfect politician, but he does mean well."

Mary Fairleigh chuckled softly. "I can see that."

Terry bounced out of the crowd, leading Jonathan Fairleigh by the hand. "This is Anne's table. Hi, Nic, Eddie. Hey, Nic, you get to see Hogwarts!"

"The Death Eaters aren't going to come here, are they?" Nic was looking truly upset.

"Nic, of course you're not going to get hurt here!" Terry gestured Eddie out of the way to sit down beside her little sister. "It's fine. We're fine."

"I was talking to some of the other parents," Anne's father told her, seating himself on her other side. "The Grangers, they were called. It sounds like their daughter's been up to quite a lot. I hope you haven't been in that much trouble, Anne."

"As much as Hermione Granger?" Anne shook her head. "She's Head Girl, and Harry Potter's best friend. She and her boyfriend are always in things up to their necks, with Harry around, but not me. Apart from...apart from when you came here, never me." She bit her lip. "Until now."

"Not to worry," her father said, squeezing her hand, "we're all here. That's the most important thing."

"I know it is."

"I say," they were interrupted by a stiff-looking man Anne guessed to be Justin Finch-Fletchley's father. "Do you have any idea what's happening to us now?"

"I'm afraid not," Anne's father said mildly. "It seems rather chaotic. You've a child here, too?"

"My son, Justin," said the man, confirming Anne's suspicions. "Knew we should have sent him to Eton instead. Much less fuss than all this magic. The name's Hugh Finch-Fletchley, by the way." Anne's father shook hands with him. "Jonathan Fairleigh. This is my wife Mary, and my daughter Anne."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Justin's father said to Mary Fairleigh. Anne, as an unimportant child, took the opportunity to escape to her siblings. Justin had already vanished and could be seen at the Gryffindor table. His father continued, "We don't put up with this sort of thing in the Army..."

On a whim, Anne slipped through the crowd to where Justin stood talking to Terry Boot. Ellie was nearby, holding an urgent conversation with her boyfriend, a Ravenclaw fifth-year.

Justin noticed Anne's approach, and peered past her. He groaned.

"Oh, no. Dad's doing his "we don't do things like this in the Army" routine, isn't he?"

"I suppose they don't," Anne replied, eyes twinkling.

Justin muttered. "My-father-the-Colonel. At least I don't have to hear any of that nonsense here."

"He thinks you'd have been better off at Eton without any of this magic fuss, apparently," Anne told him. "Terry?"

The Ravenclaw boy smiled tightly. "No sign."

Anne put a hand to her mouth, reflexively. "Oh."

He shook his head. "Not your fault."

She nodded, silently, and pressed on to find Ellie. It turned out that her family had made it safely, brothers and all. Her boyfriend's father had been left behind, guarding his family's escape, and Ellie in her kindly fashion was supporting him. Anne made her condolences, unable to think of the right things to say, and turned back to her own family. By the time she got back, they had been joined by a tall woman Anne half-knew. She smiled when she saw Anne, and recognition came flooding back.

"Mrs O'Neill! Is Theo here?"

"He's over at the Slytherin table with my husband and my grandson." Theo's aunt looked calm; they were all right, then. Although, Anne remembered, her granddaughter and son-in-law had died at New Year's with Gabby.

"Did all your family make it here?" she asked regardless.

Monique O'Neill nodded. "My two youngest haven't, but one's in America and one's an Auror, so I doubt they'd need to. My eldest daughter and her son are here. Theo mentioned my - my late son-in-law was the brother of a friend of yours."

"Gabby Hayle? Yes." Anne swallowed, the words bringing Gabby's bright laugh all too readily to mind. Especially this night. "I...I was sorry to hear about that. Theo was very upset."

"He's lost enough family, poor boy."

"I have to ask, how are you related to him?" Anne's father said. "The version of the story I've got is rather garbled. I take it you're not the aunt he ran away from?"

Monique shook her head at the same time as Anne's mother, both women looking amused.

"No," she replied, "I'm his _mother_'s sister. Karena Amberley is his _father_'s sister. You see..."

Anne murmured to her mother that she was going to find Theo. Eddie and Nic had been kidnapped by Terry to meet all her classmates who were in the hall. Theo was only one table over, talking quietly to a grey-eyed man Anne did not know, who was cradling a sleeping boy. That had to be Theo's cousin Evan. Gabby's nephew; he had the same chestnut-brown hair. The comparison was reassuring and painful at once.

"Someone to see you, Theo," his uncle said lightly, nodding at Anne as she approached. Theo spun round, half-standing.

"Anne! I saw your family - they weren't hurt?"

"No, they're fine. Seems that people either made it unharmed or, well, not." Anne seated herself as close to Theo as she dared, really wanting to lean against his reassuring warmth but unable to in such a public place. "Not many Slytherins down here."

Theo's lips quirked. "Of course not. But anyone here is too many." Anne followed his gaze to two children sitting forlornly at the end of the table, watched over by a long-haired young woman. Their sister?

"My cousin Jan," Theo said, reading her thoughts. "That's Alicia Davies and her brother; Roger and Tracey's younger siblings. Their parents...aren't here."

Anne drew in a breath. "They're so young!"

"So was my granddaughter Lee," Theo's uncle said quietly. "Younger by far than yourself, and death did not spare her..."

"That's a quote," Theo said suspiciously.

His uncle grinned. "Of course; the _Iliad_. A paraphrasing, actually."

"What's the _Iliad_?" Theo wanted to know.

Anne groaned. "Don't tell him, please; he's bad enough with Shakespeare, Greek literature is the last thing he needs to find out about!"

"You wouldn't like it," Theo's uncle said, adjusting his grandson on his lap, "it's all about people being excessively brave and stupid and killing each other over points of honour. Very Gryffindor, in fact." __

"I wouldn't, I suppose," Theo allowed. "By the way, Callum, this is -"

"Anne, of course," Callum O'Neill filled in, eyes twinkling. "I've heard _so_ much about you."

Anne couldn't help blushing, and fiddling with her hair-clip. "I'm sure." She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "You wouldn't be the Callum O'Neill who does the political overviews on the WWN, would you?"

He looked startled. "I would be. Don't tell me you listen to it?"

"Well, I borrow my friend's wireless to listen to the classical music programme actually," Anne confessed, "but since you're on just before I end up hearing it most weeks. It's useful for a clueless Muggle-born."

"Why, thank-you," Callum O'Neill replied. "I see our cunning plan to get the younger generation listening to improving programmes has worked."

Theo snorted, sneaking an arm around Anne's waist. "Cunning? You?"

"You'd be surprised how cunning we Hufflepuffs can be if we put our minds to it," his uncle told him slyly.

"You were a Hufflepuff, too?" Anne broke in delightedly.

"That's right. I was on the last team ever to win the Quidditch Cup, too. _And_ the House Cup." Callum sighed. "Those were good days."

"When was that, the sixties?" Theo scoffed. "We've won both of them thirteen times in the last twenty years, I'll have you know."

Callum rolled his eyes. "Slytherins. You cheat."

"Well, how _else_ are we supposed to win?" Theo demanded, putting on his best Slytherin expression.

Anne laughed, Theo's obvious relaxation around his relatives soaking through to her. The circumstances of the night could almost be forgotten.

Janet Hayle rejoined them then, beating back her long waves of hair. "Ugh. I knew I should have tied it up. Professor Vector's got those two poor children in hand for now. Honestly. _That man_'s not fit to be a Head of House."

"I don't think they had many other options," Theo told her thoughtfully, "or he probably wouldn't be."

A magically-enhanced cough was heard from the front of the Hall, and everyone turned to look. Professor Dumbledore was standing there with several Aurors. His raised hand brought almost immediate silence.

"All of you know why you are individually here tonight," he announced, "but many of you will not know the overall situation. It is this; tonight, Voldemort and his followers launched a concerted attack against Muggle-born and half-blood families, especially those of Hogwarts students. You were brought safely here by the Portkeys you had been given as precautions. Many - were not. The Ministry, and I, feel that it is best if you remain here at least overnight until the Aurors have had a chance to assess the strategic situation. I appreciate this is a terrible disruption, especially for those of you, students, who are sitting exams; but your safety is the first priority."

Anne felt Theo's soft, bitter laugh. "And are we safe here now?"

She shushed him. "Listen!"

The question of accommodation was next addressed. Muggle parents and siblings, as well as the few foreign parents, remained in the Great Hall, where sleeping bags were being conjured; former Hogwarts pupils slept in their old Houses, children too young for Hogwarts with them. Even in this extreme, Hogwarts custom would not bend to allow outsiders into the Houses' sacred precincts.

Anne bid her parents good night and found herself escorting Theo's family to Hufflepuff, since all three of the adults had been in that House - Jan Hayle only eleven years ago - and Evan stayed with his mother. She decided she liked these other relatives of Theo; they were good-humoured, very...normal people. Just what Theo needed. The way it turned out, she was in bed not much later than her normal hour. Sarah and Mai welcomed her and Ellie back anxiously.

"Your families are okay?" Mai asked.

"All of them , fine," Ellie assured her. "But John's father...ah, this war. Still, we can be thankful for small mercies."

"Small mercies," Anne agreed.

_Very small indeed. _

* * *

Theo was sitting down to breakfast the next morning when the second blow came. Despite their stay in the Hufflepuff common room, his aunt, uncle, and cousins joined him at the Slytherin table. Janet had just managed to persuade Evan that his porridge was not a deadly poison when there was a commotion at the door.

He looked up to see Professor Sinistra standing there. Her face was pale, and a cut spread down one cheek so deeply that Theo thought he saw bone. He wondered why she wasn't screaming. She stumbled, clinging to the balustrade, and Theo saw blood seeping onto the floor from her leg.

"Death Eaters on the grounds!" She called desperately, not at all like the calm competence Theo remembered from Astronomy lessons. "There are Death Eaters on the grounds! _And_ _they've killed Dumbledore!_"

As simply as that, the world exploded. __

**A/N:** Muhahahahaha.


	21. Crescendo

A/N: Well, now I know what to do when I want to be entertained. Write a cliffhanger, then sit back and laugh maniacally. You guys really did make my week. Such a pity I didn't write more of them. 

That said…enjoy.

Chapter Twenty-One - Crescendo

Anne liked to think she was a rule-abiding person. She didn't knowingly break the rules, at least, not unless she _really_ had to. Theo's somewhat casual attitude had not rubbed off. So when her sister tried to persuade her the next morning that no one would care if she was in the Gryffindor common room, Anne prevaricated.

"Oh, come _on_," Terry said, rolling her eyes. "All the other Muggle parents are in there anyway, they all came up from the Hall. No one _cares_. Professor McGonagall was in there _talking_ to some of them. Nic and Eddie are in there. Besides, Mum and Dad want to talk to you. It's a stupid rule anyway."

"It's all right for them," Anne told her sister firmly, "they're not in any other House. I am. And that's that."

"It's nice to see students who respect the rules," a portrait of a fat lady in pink agreed. "These Gryffindors, I don't know."

Terry turned to the portrait. "We're not that bad, we just don't listen to silly rules. When they aren't important, anyway. There's a war. There are _Muggles_ here. This isn't normal. _Domus leoni_."

The portrait frowned, folding her arms, but the picture swung outwards from the wall. Anne gaped.

"Padma Patil spent the night in our seventh-year girls' dorm," Terry added pragmatically.

Anne gave in and climbed through the portrait hole after her sister. She'd been awoken at seven o'clock by Mai and Ellie talking, stepped through the minefield of a common room packed wall-to-wall with sleeping Hufflepuff alumni and their children, been temporarily accosted by Evan Hayle looking for the toilet, and permanently accosted by her sister as she was just about to sit down to breakfast. Terry had dragged her back up to the Gryffindor common room and her family, who had decamped there; apparently the Aurors and teachers were patrolling the grounds and ignoring (Anne suspected wilfully) any transgressions. Anne couldn't be bothered arguing the point further. If she did get in trouble, at least she'd be in good company.

The Gryffindor common room, warm and leonine in reds and golds, was even more crowded than the Hufflepuff common room. Here, though, most people were awake, save the small children. There was a large cluster of redheads over by one fireplace, the Weasleys no doubt, with the addition of Hermione Granger's parents and - Anne blinked - was that Fleur Delacour, from the Triwizard Tournament?

Eddie was slouched in an armchair as if watching TV at home, Nic blissfully asleep in the space he left. Anne's parents were talking quietly to each other.

"There you are, Anne. Did you sleep well?" her mother asked as she approached.

"I suppose so," Anne said, perching on the edge of a couch. She didn't dare sit comfortably. "I'm not really supposed to be in here..."

"Terry?" her father asked, peering pointedly over his glasses.

Terry shuffled her feet. "Oh, it's okay. You're in here. And you _said_ you wanted to talk to all of us."

Anne's lips moved in an involuntary smile as she recognised the skilful movement of the blame. _I was only following orders, Professor..._

"We did," Mary Fairleigh agreed, "so sit down, Terry."

"Don't see that there's much to talk about." Eddie was staring with a surly expression at the wall. "We're here. Might as well make the best of it."

"That's exactly what we wanted to talk about," Anne's father began, leaning back in his chair. "_Why_ we're here. I know a few weeks ago, Anne, you said you wanted to stay here, but we've been wondering if...you might want to reassess that."

There was a horrible hollow forming in Anne's stomach.

"Never," she said, surprised at the steel in her voice. "This is where I belong."

"I appreciate that, love, but someone tried to _kill_ us last night. Because you come here. We have a family to worry about, and sometimes - sometimes you have to give things up, to help your family."

"But we _can't_ go," Terry protested, sitting down beside Anne with a thump. "That's not - it's not even - I get to start Care of Magical Creatures next year! Dad, that's not fair! It's not our fault!"

"I know." Her father reached over to pat her hand. "There is such a thing as an irresistible force, though. This magic business isn't worth your lives - no, or ours."

"Mum?" Anne fixed her eyes on her mother, pleading, hoping. "What do you think?"

Her mother sighed. "I - I can see your father's point, dear. Last night...what if one of us had died? What's worth _that_?"

Anne clutched the edge of the couch cushion, staring at the end of her world. There was nothing to say, but somehow she found her voice, partly her own, and partly Theo's light tones on the brink of despair.

"If I leave here," she began, her voice gathering strength, "if Terry leaves here, we will still be witches. We can't stop being witches. If we leave now, the day when they come for us again, we won't be able to fight them. And we will have given in to what _they_ want! Besides -"

"Besides what?" her father asked, face taut.

Anne swallowed. "We have - _I_ have - a duty to you, but not only you. There are other people, and other promises, and other things I have to do. In this world. Nowhere else. By the wizarding world's laws, I'm not a child anymore. I'm an adult. I - this isn't a, a "business", or a game, or a joke to give up. This is my world, to fight for."

"An adult?" Her mother arched an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"I forgot that!" Terry perked up. "You can do magic at home this summer! It's going to be so much fun!"

Eddie grunted. "Loads."

"Maybe," her father replied, "but by _our_ laws, and _our_ customs, you're still a child. We need you to do what's best for all of us. To keep us _all_ safe. Duty - this isn't about duty, Anne, this is about family. You can't risk that for this."

Anne knew what she was going to say. She didn't want to. Maybe she'd seen this coming last summer, and maybe she hadn't; the gradual turning of her path from her parents' as she moved further into the wizarding world. Maybe it had been inevitable.

"It's not just Anne," Terry interjected resentfully, "it's me too."

"Don't ask me for that, Dad," Anne whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because," she swallowed painfully, "if you do, then you're asking me for the one thing I _can't_ give you. Not won't. Can't. So don't. _Please_."

Her father looked at her for a silent minute, his eyes thoughtful. Anne supposed she'd never given him an ultimatum before. She didn't want to now.

"Can't?"

"I wonder," Mary Fairleigh said suddenly, "if we'd realised things were going to come to this six year ago, would we have sent you to Hogwarts?"

"No," Eddie muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

"Yes," Anne said, after thinking about it. "Yes. There are some things you can't change."

"Maybe there are," her mother agreed. She looked squarely at her husband, and Anne felt a flicker of hope. "This _is_ Anne's decision, I think, Jonathan."

Jonathan Fairleigh folded his arms. "You're still our child, Anne."

"Yes, Dad," Anne agreed. "But I still can't...I can't leave. That's...that's it."

Her father frowned, then suddenly sighed, and unfolded his arms. "You weren't this stubborn two years ago. Even one. You're changing; I suppose that should tell me something."

"Oh, I'm sick of this!" Anne exclaimed. "I'm who I always was. Everyone insists that I've "changed", or I'm "different", or that "you weren't like this". It's just an excuse because you were all _wrong_, and you thought just because I was quiet I was meek. That wasn't _ever_ true."

Her father raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't it?"

"No." Anne folded her own arms, fuming. Even Theo had thought that, once upon a time, but he'd learned quickly enough. What did she have to do? She wasn't' a Gryffindor, to fight. But she wasn't a doormat, either.

"Excuse me, everyone." Professor McGonagall's voice startled her, and she almost fell off the couch. As it was she had to catch herself on Terry, who was almost too small for a hand-hold.

The Deputy Headmistress was pale. "I see there are a few of you in here who aren't strictly supposed to be. Never mind that, now; you are all safer here."

"Safer?" One of the Weasleys, who had been sitting next to Fleur Delacour, stood. "What's happened?"

McGonagall hesitated. "I must inform you all - and I must ask you not to panic - there are Death Eaters on the grounds. The entrance to this Common Room is going to be locked, and I must request you all stay in here. It will be quite safe," she added pointedly. "If all Order members could come with me -"

Anne wondered what that meant, when the portrait hole opened. Ginny Weasley climbed through, looking flushed and defiant.

"Parvati! Everyone in the DA. Harry says," she took a deep breath. "it's an emergency."

To everyone else, the words meant nothing; to Anne, they were a signal she'd hoped never to hear. Dean Thomas had come up with it, last year.

"You know we'll all be there if you need us, mate," he'd told Harry. "After all, we owe you for helping us."

"Only if it's an emergency," Harry had said, pushing his glasses back up. "I'm not letting you lot put yourselves in danger for anything less."

"Then let us know when it's an emergency, and we'll be there."

There had been a general chorus of agreement, and Harry had looked oddly pleased.

Now there was no choice.

"Stay here," Anne told her family, springing up. "No matter what. I've got to go, I'm sorry, I'll be back...I'll be back if I can."

"You are not going anywhere, young lady!" her mother snapped. "Not with Death Eaters out there -"

"I have to. I - duty, remember? And promises. I'm so sorry. Don't let Terry go anywhere. I'll be back as soon as I can."

McGonagall looked as if she was about to protest, but she wasn't in time to stop the exodus of students out the portrait hole after Ginny. All the Gryffindors were there, as well as Padma Patil, and Anne herself. Even Dennis Creevy, who was only a fourth year, followed his brother with a grim look on his face.

Ginny tried to make him go back, but he wouldn't.

"I'm in the DA too." His voice was on the edge between a boyish treble and something deeper. "I have to come."

"All right." Ginny scratched her head, frowning. "Is this everyone? This way!"

Anne jogged after her with the rest, heart thudding as she realised where they were going. To help Harry Potter. To fight the Death Eaters.

_What the hell am I doing? _

They met up with the Ravenclaws on the stairs.

"Dumbledore's dead," Ginny panted, ignoring the shocked gasps. "They're in the Hall; people are getting out through the back, and the fireplaces, but not many. The main battle's on the front lawn, that's where Harry is. There was an attack at the Ministry about half an hour ago, and most of the Aurors got called away to that."

Terry Boot swore. "Bloody clever! They're trying to wipe everyone out at one go."

"Well they're not going to, are they?" Ginny shot back dangerously. "You've all got your wands, haven't you? Good. Hold on a sec." They all halted at the top of the stairs on the fifth floor.

"Harry says, too," she added quietly, "that anyone who doesn't want to fight, doesn't have to."

Anne swallowed, but held her ground. Anthony Goldstein snorted. "What do you say?"

The Gryffindor girl smiled fiercely. "Anyone who doesn't want to is letting Harry down."

There was a murmur of agreement. "I thought as much. Let's go."

* * *

Theo had always had quick reflexes. When the doors to the Great Hall were blown explosively open, causing Professor Sinistra to vanish in a cloud of splinters and flame, his first reaction was to dive to the floor. Since he was sitting at a table, what resulted was a sort of sideways motion that knocked over the bench, spilling him onto the floor and Monique with him. It didn't accomplish very much, either, since even Death Eaters could not cover the length of the great hall in a split second.

But if someone _had_ been throwing hexes straight at them, it would have been quite effective.

Probably.

As it was, Theo stumbled to his feet, rubbing his head, having been hauled up by Monique who was considerably more deft and had not hit her head on the floor.

"Which way?"

"There's a door at the back, behind the dais, _move_!"

Theo didn't stop to wonder how Callum knew that, as he was still trying to ignore the pain of his head. Jan was in front of him, hefting a squirming Evan, and deathly pale. Theo had never asked what she'd seen the night her husband had died, but he imagines this was something like it.

Looking back only slowed you down but it was an involuntary reflex he couldn't stop. It made him feel almost stupid. There were only four masked figures at the end of the hall - no, five - six - was that Professor Sprout who had just fallen to the ground?

A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. It was Monique, face set in pure determination. "_Come on!_"

He obeyed, skidding around a second-year - little Alicia Davies - who was staring in slack-jawed amazement, her little brother clutching her. Theo yanked the girl backwards by the shoulder as he went past, hissing, "Move!"

He didn't look back to see if it had worked until he was ducking out the door beside the dais into a little ante-chamber he'd never known existed. Callum was already at the far wall, lifting a tapestry.

"Theodore, you're not to show this to anyone, on your honour," Jan snapped, juggling Evan.

Behind the tapestry was a bare patch of wall which resolved, when Callum poked at an anonymous stone, into a door. He jerked it open.

"In."

There were ten or twelve people in the ante-chamber by now, mostly Slytherins and Ravenclaws who had been at the ends of their tables. Someone, Neville Longbottom, Theo saw, had shut the door.

The Davies girl and her brother were there, the first two through Callum's door, making Theo feel irrationally relieved. The sole Hufflepuff student stopped to glare at Callum. Theo didn't know what that was about.

He was the second-to-last through, followed closely by Callum. The door did _not_ end in a darkened passageway, but in a well-lighted room that appeared to be, of all things, a storehouse for botanical specimens.

"Where _is_ this?" Longbottom demanded, staring around in fascinating. Herbology was the only thing he'd ever been good at.

"Hufflepuff secret," Monique said, eyes dancing. "Callum, they're going to string you up for this."

Her husband waved an irritable hand. "Never mind. This way."

The mixed group followed, for a wonder, without complaint. Theo supposed that what they were walking away from merited that. The lone Hufflepuff, a boy Theo didn't know by name but recognised as a yearmate of Anne's, was muttering darkly.

"They can't _do_ this, not our common room, it's against all the rules -"

"Jeremy, would you rather we'd stayed out there and died?" said one of the Ravenclaws in exasperated tones.

Theo thought he heard a muttered "yes."

The room led into a corridor with far more rooms leading off it than Theo would have guessed existed in this part of the school. A final door opened to reveal - as he had guessed but couldn't quite believe - the Hufflepuff common room.

Its occupants stared. There were a lot of them.

The thought drifted quite irrelevantly into Theo's head that badgers ate snakes.

"There are Death Eaters in the school," Callum said, projecting his voice. "We got out the back of the Hall."

One of the parents, evidently a Hufflepuff alumnus, choked. "You let - you let _other people_ into the _sett_ -"

"The what?" the same Ravenclaw girl said.

"None of your business," Jeremy-the-Hufflepuff told her stiffly.

Theo had already caught sight of Ernie and the other DA members, and was striding across the room to them, damn the consequences, the nasty looks, and the growing voices. Anne's friends, in one corner, looked caught between fear, astonishment, and curiosity.

Ernie was already on his feet, frowning. "Are you sure it's Death Eaters, Theodore? Hogwarts has never been -"

"Well it is now!" Theo shot back.

"What are we supposed to do about it?" Zacharias Smith whined.

The looks he got were cold.

"We have to go and help Harry!" Longbottom said, jaw set. No one questioned that Potter would be in the thick of it.

"What are we waiting for?" Susan Bones was already yanking open the door. Theo was swept up in the group and found himself outside the nice safe room - possibly not so safe with all those Hufflepuffs. The _snick_ of the door as it locked was very...final.

Estella Haywood arrived, skidding to a halt in front of the group.

"You got the message? Wasn't sure if it got through."

"The Hall doors getting blown in was a little excessive, if that was you," Theo replied.

She raised an eyebrow. "I hadn't heard about that, I came up the back stairs from the dungeons."

"The Slytherin common room -" Ernie began.

"Safe and locked. I got Amanda Sellers to change the password, so no one's getting in that way."

"But what if people are trying to get back in and they can't!" Susan Bones protested. "With Death Eaters on the loose-"

Haywood's face was expressionless. "There are more of us in there than out. Families. _Children_."

And her father, Theo remembered. Slytherins looked to their own.

He nodded tightly, all the same. "Good idea. Nobody else wanted to come along?"

She snorted. "Conflicts of interest, too young, too interested in their own necks...I didn't bother asking."

"And you two aren't?" Smith's expression was supercilious.

"Shut _up_, Zacharias," Hannah Abbot said impatiently.

Haywood shrugged. "My mother died last night."

Theo felt something was required of him. "They want me dead." _Some of them. With good reason. _"And my cousin...she was three."

Justin sucked in a harsh breath. "Bastards."

"Language," snapped Hannah Abbot.

"Never mind all that. We need to get out to the front lawn," Ernie said. "Harry's there."

Theo closed his for a moment, wishing there was another way to go. He didn't want to go out there, more than anything, but he couldn't run because they didn't think he would...

_See, this is what happens when you care what other people think_.

"Okay," he said levelly, opening his eyes, "the Entrance Hall? We'll be fighting our way out whichever way we go."

"By the greenhouses," Longbottom interrupted, "the door past the Hufflepuff common room goes out there and then we can sneak around the side."

"I'd have thought a Gryffindor would just charge out there," sneered Zacharias Smith.

"Oh, shut _up_," Susan Bones said in disgust. "That's a great idea, Neville."

"Let's go and get it over with, then," Hannah Abbot said. She had gone pale, and she looked like she'd rather sit her NEWTs over than go out and fight.

_If someone like _her_ is going, what are you doing looking for ways out_? A voice in Theo's brain taunted him.

_Trying to survive_, he shot back at it, but it didn't make much difference.

"This way, then," Ernie announced. "Watch out, everyone!"

_Hah. Great advice. Watch out. We're headed into a bloody battle and all you can say is "watch out"? _

Forcibly relaxing his grip on his wand, Theo followed the others without looking back.

* * *

The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw components of the DA, plus Anne, never made it to the front lawn. They had reached the top of the stairs on the sixth floor when they met the first Death Eaters coming up, presumably headed for the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw common rooms. Caught by surprise, the Death Eaters got quite a few spells off before their stunned opponents fought back. Lavender Brown was hit by a Bone-Breaker curse that caused an audible _snap_; she collapsed to the ground. Anne avoided injury by being at the back of the group.

Parvati Patil fell to her knees beside her friend. "Lavender!"

"Ow..." Amazingly, the blonde girl's eyelashes fluttered. "That hurt."

"We need to move her out of the corridor!" Parvati was actually wringing her hands. Anne hadn't known you could do that.

"Go on, we'll help with this," her twin Padma said. Ginny Weasley nodded before racing off down the stairs. Only Terry Boot, Anne, and the Patils stayed behind.

"We can't move her," Parvati said frantically, "her neck - where's Seamus?"

"Fighting," Lavender whispered, "he has to help Harry. Can't help me now." A frown crossed her face. "Wish he'd stayed."

"Of course you can be helped!" Parvati insisted.

"Nothing in here but some old desks," Padma reported, pushing open the door of the nearest room. "Should be safe."

"Here." Terry Boot pointed his wand at Lavender. _"Levitato."_

Lavender was lifted up in the air, not a eyelash twitching out of place.

"What spell's that?" Anne asked Padma in an undertone.

"You'll learn it next year. It's for moving things without damaging them."

Anne nodded in wry appreciation of that. Terry Boot moved Lavender safely into the classroom, lowering her down onto the floor behind the dust-cloth-shrouded teacher's desk.

"So no one sees her if they just peek in," he explained.

"I'll stay," Parvati said immediately. Anne almost offered, but thought better of it. Seventh year Parvati might be, but Lavender needed a friend, not a half-stranger.

"Right." Padma nodded once, sharply. "We'll send you help as soon as we can."

Parvati looked down at Lavender, who was now unconscious. She clenched her fist. "Be quick."

"As fast as we can." Terry Boot hustled Anne and Padma out of the room.

"Downstairs," Padma said, casting a worried glance back over her shoulder. "After the others."

"There's only three of us," Anne pointed out quietly, but when the other two looked at her, "but we have to."

"We do."

There was only one rather stupid Death Eater between them and the fifth floor. Anne walked around a corner straight into him. His Hurling Hex threw her hard against the wall, winding her before she slid to the floor, but he stopped and stared when Padma and Terry rounded the corner after her, long enough for Padma to disarm and Stun him.

"Are you alright?" Padma asked, helping Anne up. Anne touched her shoulder, and winced. It had hit a lintel and felt bruised, at best. The pike held by a suit of armour had sliced her leg.

"Nothing important," she told Padma, gritting her teeth. "Behind you!"

Fortunately for them, the danger turned out to be only Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley, the latter of whom had to be brought back to consciousness when Terry reacted before seeing them properly.

"Ow," Justin said as he sat up, "Death Eaters are bad enough, but you as well?"

"Sorry." Terry didn't sound very sorry at all. "Where did you two come from?"

"We were heading out when we saw them going upstairs, we went around to intercept them," Ernie explained.

"The Gryffindors took the other stair," Padma explained, "we'll go 'round past the Muggle Studies classroom, shall we?"

There was no time for stopping and thinking; they were off again. Anne hadn't realised how long Hogwarts' corridors really were until she had to race down them looking for people trying to kill her.

The next, most unpleasant surprise was down the main corridor on the fourth floor, when Justin saw a flash of movement behind a statue. When pulled out, it turned out to be Anne's worst nightmare. Terry.

Anne felt her heart sink. "The common room -"

Terry folded her arms, looking particularly stubborn. "No, they're fine, but I _told_ you, I have to help and no one was looking so I sneaked out -"

"Death Eaters!" Terry Boot yelled. Anne looked up to see dark-robed figures rounding the corner. She grabbed her little sister by the arm and yanked her unceremoniously into the nearest doorway. It turned out to be the Library, of all places, which was utterly deserted; Anne didn't think she could face such blatant normality in the middle of this.

"_What the hell are you doing_?" she hissed at Terry. "_Praesidium sonus!_ YOU COULD GET KILLED!"

The shielding of sound was something Anne had never quite brought herself to believe in, even knowing magic was real, but when it really mattered she used it without a second thought. "Terry, are you INSANE?"

Terry, who knew her sister shouted only when totally uninhibited by any sense of propriety - and therefore on the verge of murder - shrank into herself.

"I wanted to help," she said in very small tones.

"The _only _thing that you can do out there is die!" Anne snarled. "What would I tell Mum and Dad? Idiot Gryffindors! Think of your own skin for once in your life!"

Terry, against all expectation, folded her arms again. "_You_'re out here. You're fighting. Why not me?"

"You're too young!"

"I'm almost thirteen! Harry Potter had fought Voldemort _twice_ by the time he was my age."

"You're not Harry Potter. You're my sister, and I'm not letting you go back out there." Anne glanced at the door, trying not to think of what the others must be facing out in the corridor - and how easy it would be to hide in here and forget about the battle..."Come on."

Keeping an iron grip on Terry's arm, she dragged her protesting sister across the library and into the Restricted Section. The rule-abiding half of Anne quailed at the thought of entering that sacrosanct precinct, but the angry and frightened half just pushed open the gate and kept going. Madam Pince's post was abandoned; she, too, would be...out there.

"Hey, cool, I've never been in here!" Terry said, ceasing to wriggle. "Do you know where the Potions section is?"

"_No,_" Anne said grimly, "and I don't care." She stalked towards the furthest, most dusty shelves. "Here. You are going to sit here, behind this shelf, and you are not going to make _one_ noise. And you will stay here until I come to get you."

Terry opened her mouth to protest, then seemed to think better of it. "Okay. How long will you be?"

_How long? How long? A minute. An hour. Forever. I don't know, Terry. _

"I don't know. Sit." Anne tapped her sister's forehead with her wand. _"Praesidium sonus petus. Oculorum ludibrum." _Terry almost vanished as the Illusion spell turned her into a human chameleon; she was barely distinguishable from her background. The sound shield cut off her words, too.

"I'm going back, now," Anne told her, and she was proud that her voice trembled only slightly. "Keep very still, and no one will see you." Terry was twisting, examining her Illusioned body. Obediently, she sat. Anne knelt and gave her a quick hug.

"I love you, Terry. I'll be back...as soon as I can."

Terry shook her head, but Anne didn't hesitate; she turned and walked away. Every step was difficult; all she wanted was to curl up with Terry and wait out this battle in safety. Even better, to take her sister and fight her way back to the Gryffindor common room, where her parents would be. They could make it better. They always did.

Except _she_ had to protect them today. Despite everything.

The library door began to open just before Anne reached it, and she flattened herself against the wall. A masked head poked through, looking first, by some miracle, to its right, away from Anne, who raised a trembling hand to say "_Stupefy!_"

The Death Eater collapsed, falling half-way through the door. The next person through was Ernie Macmillan; only his crouched stance stopped Anne Stunning him, too.

"Anne! We've got to keep moving. Where -"

"She's in the Restricted Section." Anne took a deep breath. "Help me drag her out -" (the Death Eater was a woman) "- I don't want them thinking to come in here."

"Right." Ernie helped her pull the unconscious woman out into the corridor, stopping only to pick up her wand. For a wonder, there was no-one else in sight apart from other DA members. Terry Boot wore a grimace; his right sleeve was almost entirely burned off, and his arm looked like he should be screaming in pain.

"I'll lock the door," Padma Patil offered, but Ernie shook his head. "Thanks, but no, Padma; all the other doors are open. Don't want to draw attention to it. Where's Parvati?"

The Ravenclaw girl swallowed. "She - Lavender - she wanted to stay -"

"Watch out!" Justin Finch-Fletchley cried as a Death Eater came into view around the corner of the corridor. Five to one were not good odds, but in the few seconds that it took a variety of hexes to hit the man, a Flaying Curse scissored between Ernie and Anne, ripping away a large patch of skin and robes from both of their legs.

Anne hissed in pain. "Aaah!"

Padma looked quickly from side to side. "Here." A charm stopped the bleeding for both Ernie and Anne, but it still made Anne queasy to look at, and it hurt like hell when she moved the leg. There was no time.

"Where now?" Terry asked, through gritted teeth.

"Downwards, chaps," Ernie announced, "that's where Harry is, and we're on our way to help him, remember?"

"If we make it that far," Padma muttered, but she followed Ernie with the rest of them. Anne's heart was thumping loudly in her ears.

_If we make it that far. _

****


	22. Fortissimo

A/N: You're all going to hate me, but I have to warn you; I'm moving cities next weekend so I'm not sure how long it will be before I have my computer hooked up to the Internet. I will try to update ASAP, but be prepared. If there is a gap, I promise it's because I'm setting up my life at university. 

Those who have asked for further explanations of what happened to Ginny/the full story of Harry's seventh year - I'm afraid those won't be forthcoming. I don't know what happened to Ginny in the Forbidden Forest; I rather suspect it involved Harry haring off after Voldemort in some way, shape, or form, but I don't _know_. That's why I write about Theo and Anne. I know them, and I know what happens to them. Harry and the central events of this universe I leave in JKR's hands.

And within the framework of Theo and Anne's story, the details of Harry's adventures are not common knowledge. All the way back in _Distractions_, neither Theo nor Anne ever got the full details of what happened in the Ministry of Magic. What they can know is only what they observe, or what they hear filtered through others.

I must also give credit which I, to my deep shame, forgot to mention: the concept of the hidden rooms off the Hufflepuff common room belongs to Arabella, and was first detailed in the story Before The Beginning, found at the Sugar Quill. I just borrowed the idea.

And now - long author's notes mean a long chapter:)

Chapter Twenty-Two - Fortissimo

The corridors of Hogwarts had never seemed so endless to Anne. Nor so full of people. Padma's muttered comment about making it had been correct; they were still on the fourth floor. Every time they tried to get lower, something (or someone) blocked their way. But there came a time - after how long, Anne was never quite sure - when she and the other members of the DA with her made it past several classrooms with out encountering a Death Eater. Then to the next set of stairs. Then to the third floor. Then they began to meet _other_ students, Aurors, even a couple of teachers, and realised that the battle, without ever quite seeming real, was over.

It wasn't until they met Sergeant Tonks on the stairs to the second floor (who very nearly took Ernie Macmillan's head off by accident) that they found out why the Death Eaters were falling back.

"Be a bit more careful, you lot, the _last_ thing we need is students lost to friendly fire" Tonks scolded them. "All clear"

"We've done our best" Ernie told her, the pomposity nearly gone from his voice. "Professor Vector told us that everything up from here was safe, as far as she knew. We've only seen other students for a while."

"Not many Death Eaters made it up anywhere near the towers. You must be the lot that've been picking off those that did; all the common rooms are safe." Tonks didn't relax; she was still scanning the corridor. "You do know that you were all supposed to stay in there"

"They might have reached the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw common rooms if we'd done that" Padma snapped, folding her arms. "What was the point of training all this time just to hide"

"I didn't say you should have, I was wondering if you knew you were supposed to" Tonks rejoined calmly. "They didn't reach them, after all, and you're probably right, without students fighting...it doesn't matter. It's all over bar the shouting by now."

"We've got them on the run" Justin said hopefully.

Tonks smiled grimly. "Not many of them wanted to hang around and find out what happened after You Know Who was killed."

Her words got silence for a second, before all five of them started to speak at once.

"I say, is that poss"

"You're not serious"

"How did Harry do it"

"I don't see how he could "

"Oh, thank God." Anne felt a rush of pure relief. Without the Dark Lord, the driving force behind the Death Eaters was gone.

_And wouldn't they have said that of us without Dumbledore? _

_Except we had Harry Potter in his place. Dumbledore's Army. Hah. It was Harry Potter's army all along, and we knew it. _

Tonks held up a hand. "I don't know any details. But I _do_ know that we're supposed to get anyone injured to the Great Hall; they're setting up in there. How are all of you"

Anne rubbed her left shoulder. It was throbbing after she'd been thrown back into that stone wall, and would probably be a mass of bruises by now. The pike cut on her arm stung, the robe around it crusted with blood. Her knees and palms were grazed from landing on the stone floor. Her flayed thigh was beginning to bleed again. She felt like she'd been put through a wringer. The others were in no better condition; Terry Boot, in particular, was held upright by sheer force of will. Then there were Lavender and Parvati, left in that classroom. Lavender possibly dead by now.

But Anne had to go and fetch her sister.

"Never mind" Tonks said after they all exchanged glances, no one willing to be the first to admit weakness"you're all going. That's an order. I'll come with you."

"Sergeant" Padma interrupted"there's a student in one of the fifth floor classrooms, my sister's with her, she's - someone has to go and get her."

"I have to go and fetch my sister" Anne said hesitantly"she's in the Library, and I don't know...I have to make sure she's all right."

Tonks sighed. "Okay; two of you go with Anne, and the other two come and show me where your friend is. Then straight down to the Hall; it should be safe enough by now."

Justin and Padma elected to come with Anne to the library, two floors up; Padma seemed unwilling, suddenly, to confront what might have happened to Lavender. Terry Boot needed to get medical attention as quickly as possible, and Ernie felt too strongly responsible for his fellow students to not go after Lavender.

The route Anne took to the library, back on the fourth floor, was only periodically marred by burn marks on the walls, or blood. Rounding a corner to discover the body of one of Terry's classmates, who must have been trying to get back to the Gryffindor common room, was the worst point. Anne couldn't remember his name. It seemed unfair; here he was, twelve years old and lying dead in the hallway of his _school_, not a mark on him, and Anne couldn't even remember his name. Padma flinched and hurried them on. Anne didn't want to linger; it brought back her fears for Terry too easily.

The library was so untouched that Anne stopped in confusion when she went in. Surely this couldn't be part of the same castle that had just had a battle waged through its corridors. She had to look around at Justin behind her to reassure herself that she wasn't dreaming.

"Why're we going in here" Justin asked. "I can't see anyone."

"I left Terry - my sister - in here" Anne explained, striding towards the Restricted Section. The motion let her know that her leg was worse than she'd thought; it hurt every time she moved. But there was no time for that. "I thought if she stayed in the Restricted Section and was very quiet, it was safer than sending her back to her common room through the battle."

Padma Patil scoffed. "Like the Death Eaters will still be scared to go in there because they went to Hogwarts"

"_I_ would be" Justin said pointedly. He looked around quickly as Anne pushed open the door. "You're sure Madam Pince isn't anywhere around here"

"Relax, she'll be down in the Great Hall" Padma reassured him. "Don't worry - she lets me come in here anyway, you'll be fine if I'm with you."

"Ravenclaws" Justin muttered, but it was good natured. "Trust you to get on the librarian's good side."

"Terry" Anne called, making her way to the spot she'd left her sister. Not that she trusted Terry to stay in the same place, but hopefully she'd be somewhere around there. "Terry, it's Anne, you can come out now, the battle's over."

Silence.

"Terry" Anne raised her voice, darting through the shelves. No sign of her sister was to be seen...

..._dead or alive. No -_

"Terry"

"I can't see any sign of anyone" Justin said, coming up behind her. "Padma"

"No." The Ravenclaw girl shook her head.

"Oh, _no!_" Anne clenched a fist. If she stayed very still for a minute and tried to calm down, things would look better. They had to. There hadn't been a fight - there wasn't a body -

"We'll go and get people looking, okay? I need to find Parvati" Padma said in reasonable tones. "You have a look around here. I'm sure...she can't have..." Her voice trailed off.

Anne shook her head, opening her eyes. "No, if you don't mind, I - I'll come with you. It's not safe by myself."

"No" Justin agreed. "Come on then. Be a shame to fight a battle and die because Madam Pince caught us in the Restricted Section."

Anne's laughter was nervous, but it was the only way to let off tension. It was that, or weep.

_Terry, where the hell are you? _****

* * *

Outside the castle, Theo was right in the middle of a battle he'd promised himself he'd never fight. At this very moment, he wasn't. He'd been knocked down, and was lying on the ground, unmoving. It was an excellent tactic. With all the people rushing past, one more slumped body was just so much scenery. He watched the world through slitted eyelids for a few more seconds, trying to work out when to move, when he noticed Susan Bones only a couple of metres away being disarmed by a Death Eater who was about to trip over Theo if he went any further backwards.

It was only a quick stretch to pull the Death Eater's feet out from under him, and since his cover was broken, the work of a second to summon the man's wand - and Susan's - and toss Susan's back to its owner.

She caught it deftly, blinking.

"Thanks"

That was all they had time for before her eyes widened and Theo was hitting the ground again, a spell whose nature he didn't care to speculate on breezing over his head. This time he came up throwing a hex he'd seen his father use once. It was quasi-legal, if that, but nobody could fight well with their windpipe blocked.

The Death Eater collapsed to his knees, clawing uselessly at his throat, so Theo disarmed him and lifted the spell. He didn't stay in one spot long enough to check if the man was unconscious or...there was enough to worry about without wondering if he'd killed someone. Odd. He was fighting this war because he hadn't wanted to kill anyone. That would be ironic.

For some reason, the fighting was dying down. Everyone - Death Eaters, students, and Aurors alike - was looking towards a spot not so far in front of the massive front doors of Hogwarts. Theo glanced over his shoulder; there was no one behind him, except Professor Flitwick, who was hardly a danger. He had to move quietly forward to see what could stop a _battle_.

Not much to look at, really. Just two figures facing each other at a distance of two metres. Maybe three. One scrawny and dark haired, with the uncertain sun, low over the Forbidden Forest, glinting off his glasses. The other tall and sinuous, not quite human.

Theo couldn't hear what they were saying, but a cold shiver ran down his spine. Harry Potter and the Dark Lord. How many times had they faced off, over the years? Five? Six? How many times had Harry Potter escaped by the skin of his teeth?

How many times, come to that, had the _Dark Lord_ escaped by the skin of his teeth?

But someone was not going to escape, today.

The Dark Lord raised his wand, and green light flooded towards Potter. But the idiot Gryffindor didn't even move; he simply raised his own wand, and his spell met the Dark Lord's half-way.

But instead of spinning away, like ordinary spells, the light twisted into a golden line that connected both wands. Theo stared. Potter was standing rigidly, as if holding that line was an effort of will in itself. Then he raised his free hand to his head, as if in pain.

The Dark Lord was laughing.

Theo gripped his wand, knuckles white. It had never seemed possible that Potter could _lose_. He was Harry Potter. Surviving was what he did. He'd taught all of them to survive.

He couldn't die now.

But no one was listening to Theo's wishes; Potter fell to his knees. Still holding that golden light that flowed between his wand and the Dark Lord's.

Theo's eyes flicked towards movement. Someone - a small group of someones - had burst from the doors of Hogwarts and were running towards Potter and the Dark Lord at top speed. Dark-robed figures moved to halt them, but all of the group save one turned to fight. Theo saw one fall to the ground - was it Luna Lovegood- but the Death Eaters didn't stop the one person who Theo suddenly realised must really matter. At this distance, it was hard to tell, but Theo rather thought it was Neville Longbottom.

Longbottom halted as if reaching an invisible line a couple of metres from Potter, and _threw_ his burden. A sword, glinting in the morning light, stuck upright in the ground in front of Potter.

In one swift movement, Potter threw his wand straight at the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord jerked back in a human reaction Theo never would have expected. The second was enough for Potter to rise to his feet, grabbing the sword from the ground. Theo's view of what happened next was blocked by the Dark Lord's body. Then Potter stumbled back a few paces, sword in hand, and the Dark Lord just - collapsed. Like any other wizard, on this bloodied field. At the end, found by the death he'd sold his soul into darkness to avoid - just like anyone else.

Potter was left standing over him, holding what could only be the bloodied sword of Gryffindor he'd killed that basilisk with five years ago. For a second, there was silence. Then it was broken by a despairing scream from one of the Death Eaters. She threw herself at Potter, who was now wandless. His friends moved to block her, and as if it had been a signal, other Death Eaters began to fight. Theo was lucky. The closest Death Eater had been directly in front of him, looking in the same direction as Theo. She didn't even see Susan Bones before the Hufflepuff Stunned her.

"Miss Bones, students are supposed to be in their common rooms" squeaked Flitwick, but neither Theo or Susan paid him any attention. Then all was chaos once more.

It was a different sort of chaos to before, though; now the Death Eaters were desperate. Their master had been killed by a seventeen year old boy before their very eyes. Conversely, Hogwarts' defenders, Theo included, could take heart; the invincible Dark Lord had proven as mortal as anyone else.

That didn't mean the battle was over. Theo got a deep gash on his cheek, a burnt shoulder, and narrowly dodged a Bone-Breaking curse that would have snapped his neck. As it was his left wrist had _sounded_ broken. Theo didn't have time to check. There was worse, too. Hannah Abbott died fighting. That was the best you could say about it. There weren't really that many dead, but to Theo's eyes, corpses seemed to be everywhere. The Death Eaters were as bad as the students; he knew both groups. Tripping over the headless body of Blaise Zabini - someone he'd shared a dorm with for seven years, even vainly hoped for as an ally - was probably the low point of his life to date. Theo threw up in reflexive nausea.

Eventually he stumbled back into the Entrance Hall. People were milling everywhere; he peered into the Great Hall. It looked like an infirmary was being set up there. Certainly the Hospital Wing wouldn't hold all these people.

He considered asking a passing Auror if it was over, but he didn't need to. If it wasn't, Dennis Creevy wouldn't be sitting on the stairs, head slumped. Theo swallowed convulsively. He didn't think he'd be able to look at the fourth-year again without seeing imprinted on his eyelids the image of Colin Creevy throwing himself in front of his younger brother. Dennis' robes were drenched with blood, but it wasn't his; it was Colin's.

Theo resisted the urge to just curl up on the floor and stare at nothing. There wasn't - maybe there was time, now. Well, there was no point. He needed to - to get his wrist checked, although it seemed churlish when Anthony Goldstein had a _hand_ missing, to find Anne - his stomach lurched at the thought of what might have happened to her - to find his family, to -

- to try and not think. Because he couldn't face today, this _morning_, it couldn't be twelve o'clock yet, until later. The blood and pain was far too close. He limped off towards the Hall.

A cry from behind brought him up short.

"Theodore! Theodore Nott! Anne Fairleigh's sister's missing"

The urgent call from Padma Patil brought Theo up short. He spun round.

"What? Which one"

The Ravenclaw girl nodded, eyes wide. "You know, the Gryffindor. We're looking for her. The common rooms are safe and they've found everyone else, almost, but she sneaked out and then Anne left her in the library and she wasn't there when we went back. I think "

Theo swore. Not under his breath. Patil's shocked exclamation went unheeded. "Where aren't you looking"

"I don't think anyone's looked outside yet, it's still too dangerous - and the Aurors will find her if she's there."

Theo spun on his heel, all pain forgotten, and headed straight back out the main door. If she wasn't supposed to be outside, she would be. Damn Terry, she wasn't _that_ stupid.

_Damn Gryffindor courage, anyway. _

_If anyone's listening, please let me find her. _

_Alive. I don't think I could handle finding her dead. _

_Well, at least I know Anne's all right if she had energy to spare worrying about Terry. Except this is Anne; she'd probably worry if she was at death's door -_

_Shut up and look!_

The lawn in front of Hogwarts, viewed from this angle, was a mess of broken bodies and scarred earth, slowly being cleared as people were taken to the Great Hall to be treated - or to the small huddle of prisoners, ringed by Aurors. Theo avoided looking in that direction. He didn't want to see...whatever might be there.

Of the Dark Lord, and Harry Potter, there was no sign. Theo wondered where they had gone. He wondered if Potter was alive. He had to be, after defeating the Dark Lord. Dying at someone_ else_'s hands would be...wrong. Stories didn't go like that.

Life wasn't a story. Stories had happy endings.

Terry wasn't among the dead and injured. She wasn't hidden by the piles of earth thrown up by explosive spells. She wasn't anywhere that Theo could see, so he headed right, down past the greenhouses, now half-shattered, towards the edge of the lake where the willows grew, near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Where he'd once sat with Anne and spoken of a future he'd never believed would happen. It was the sort of place Terry would go, the sort of place he himself would run if he was a twelve-year-old caught in the middle of a battle. Away. Terry was more likely to run towards, of course, but even she couldn't be that silly.

She hadn't been, either. Theo felt obscurely cheated when he found her propped up against a rock, throwing pebbles into the lake, with a mildly sulky expression on her face. This could be Terry any day. Surely after...what had happened, she must be a little more affected.

"Your sister" he said very clearly"wants your head on a platter once she'd made sure you're alive. I'm half inclined to give it to her. Do you have _any_ idea how worried we are?

The last came out in a half-shout. Perhaps he wasn't quite as sanguine about Terry as he liked to believe. Perhaps he wasn't as sanguine about anything as he'd like to be.

Terry started when he spoke, dropping the rock she'd been about to throw.

"Theo! Theo, don't do that, you scared me, I thought you were a Death Eater. Is everyone all right? I didn't mean to scare Anne but I had to leave the library 'cause it was boring, and then I ended up coming down the back stairs and there was a Death Eater and I ran the other way, and then I tripped up and my leg hurts and I managed to get over here and take the spells off and...you're looking at me funny."

"_It was boring"_ Theo said. He was not shouting. That would be inappropriate. "There was a battle and you went out into the middle of it because you were _bored_? I should kill you and save someone else the trouble"

"I'm sorry" Terry said in a small voice. It was the first time Theo had ever thought of her as small in any way, apart from physically. "I wanted to help. And then I - I ran away because...because I'm a coward. I'm sorry." A tear trickled down her cheek. "I was scared."

She said the last in tones so low Theo could barely hear her. He didn't know how she managed to trip every single elder brother reflex that he'd never had the chance to acquire because he was an only child, but somehow, Terry Fairleigh did it. He let out a sigh, folding his arms.

"You are _not_ a coward. You are brave to the point of insanity. You're a Gryffindor. Cowardice is the last thing you need to worry about. _Prudence_ is what you're lacking. Come on back to the castle and we'll let everyone know you're not on the casualty list."

"Is it that bad"

"Yes" Theo told her, because she'd have to hear it sometime. "It is. Not anyone who was in the common rooms, just the people who were up, and Aurors. Serve them right for being early risers. But your family are okay, I assume, and mine, I hope, anyway, and Anne, which you know, or I'd be much more upset. I can't say about your friends, since I don't know them. But come back and we'll see."

Terry nodded, unwrapping her arms from around her knees. "Okay."

She made it to her feet, but the first step she took caused her to wince and stumble.

"Aaah"

Theo steadied her. "You said you'd tripped...you haven't broken anything, have you"

Terry sniffled, wiping her face on her sleeve. "No. I'm fine. I can walk."

She made it one more step before falling over. Theo caught her.

"Don't be ridiculous. You'll hurt yourself even more. Come on."

It was relatively easy to swing her up into his arms, if he kept the weight off his wrist, and it would certainly get them back to the castle much faster. "I'll carry you."

Terry, unhelpfully, began to drum on his back with her fists.

"No! Let me down, Theo, I can walk! _Let me down_"

"Absolutely not. Stop that. We'll take all day if you keep hitting me. Can't you act your age"

That got a sullen silence and folded arms. Better than violence.

"I _am_ acting my age."

"You could have fooled me" Theo said blandly. "Ow"

* * *

Terry was a surprisingly light burden - not that she was very tall, or anything - but Theo had to stop and catch his breath on the crest of the rise looking down over the lake. He was met there by Ernie Macmillan.

"Theodore! You found her. Thank Merlin. She's almost the last one unaccounted for."

"Don't talk over my head" Terry snapped, still put out about being carried.

"I'm sorry, Terry, I didn't mean to insult you" Ernie said in his kind but overbearing manner. "Theodore, are you sure you can manage "

"No, it's fine" Theo said, adjusting his grip on Terry. His wrist wasn't really hurting any more than it would if he wasn't carrying her. "And you, Terry"

"'I'm okay" she whispered, but her face was white. "No, really, I'm _fine_, Theo, don't look at me like that! Maybe you should try letting me walk 'cause I think I could manage the rest of the way "

"Bloody Gryffindors" Theo muttered in a tone meant to be heard, and then, raising his voice"I should think not."

"Theodore" Ernie called, and Theo looked around. Ernie pointed towards a prone form in Death Eater robes, half-hidden by the long grass where nobody near the castle could see him. Theo didn't know how he'd missed the man on his way to find Terry. "Unconscious, I think. We'd best do something about it."

Theo froze. He would have recognised that man anywhere, anytime. Even masked and hooded.

_Not now. I can't -_

Aloud, he said"Ernie...will you take Terry back to the castle, please"

Ernie's gaze flickered from Eric Nott to Theo. He wasn't stupid. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Theo"

"Oh" Terry half-gasped. "Is that your...is that your dad"

Theo ignored her up-turned face, looking straight at Ernie. "What, don't you trust me"

Ernie said nothing for a long moment. "Be careful, that's all. We don't want to lose you now."

"No one's losing me to him" Theo said, nodding at his father, and the truth of that cut like a knife. "Please. Just make sure Terry gets back there safely."

"I can _walk_" Terry protested as she was handed over to Ernie"it doesn't hurt that much - ah" She gave a short cry of pain as Theo joggled her more than was necessary.

"It doesn't? How nice." Theo nodded to Ernie. "Tell A - I'll be back soon. Tell...just let whoever's in charge know I'm safe."

"Right." Theo waited until the Hufflepuff boy was out of earshot - to his credit, he only looked back once - before raising his wand.

_"Accio_ wand." His father's wand, familiar as his own, flew out of the grass towards him. Theo caught and pocketed it. It wasn't that he didn't trust - well, you could never be sure -

- _he's a Death Eater and we just won a battle against him and I can't let him keep his wand. Oh, God. How did we come to _this?

There was no one else around, really. They were all drifting back to the castle, or huddled in the small group of prisoners, or...lying unmoving. He and Ernie, searching for Terry, must have been some of the last students remaining outside the castle.

He gave up the struggle to remain standing and sat down beside his father, pushing the grass out of the way. The mask came off with a quick tug, and Theo felt his heart twist. Almost a year, it had been, the longest of his life. But you couldn't go back. He couldn't see this familiar, beloved face without the echo of others behind it; Leonora's big grey eyes, Gabby Hayle sitting next to Anne. The memories of peace had been overlain with others. A sleepless night spent waiting for Anne's assurance she was alive. A letter that had forced him into betrayal. A journey in the dark from safety into danger.

Theo tried to remember the time when his father had been the one person he'd trusted and loved without question; he knew it had been that way, once. It was gone, as easily and quickly as life. No, not easily, and maybe not so quickly, but the memories were dim, and forever tainted.

"I suppose that's what I can't forgive" Theo said aloud, and was unsurprised to see his father's eyes open and round with shock.

"Theodore " Eric Nott pushed himself up, but only got half-way. "_Theodore? _What are you doing here"

"I was looking for my girlfriend's sister. She was lost, after the battle."

His father frowned. "Girlfriend"

Theo shrugged. Secrecy, too, was as vanished as everything else from that time. "Of course, I never told you."

"Was it that bad" his father said, half in humour, half in apprehension. He managed to sit up, brushing grass off his shoulders.

"For you, it is. Would have been, if I'd said anything. Unless you've had a change of heart with the Dark Lord's fall."

"Fall" His father's mouth dropped open. "_His fall_"

It would be much easier to not feel anything, right now. Like pity. Or sadness. Or compassion. Or love. But Theo couldn't do that, so he didn't bother trying.

"Harry Potter killed him. Half an hour ago, maybe. It's over, Dad. You..." His throat closed up. _You lost everything, but I can't tell you that because it's true._

"No" his father said, voice rising"not again, we were going to win this time! Forever"

"_Nothing_ is forever" Theo said, more harshly than he intended. "Call it a gamble. Everyone in this had a choice. You chose one way, I chose another. Someone was always going to have chosen wrongly. I wish...I wish you hadn't." He hooked his arms around his legs, as if physical protection would help.

Eric Nott looked like a man whose world had collapsed around him. Theo supposed it had.

"The Dark Lord couldn't lose. I wouldn't have followed him if he could lose"

"Is that what it was all about" Theo shot back, unwilling to see frailty. He'd clung to the idea that his father _thought_ he was right. If it was only power...some prices you couldn't pay..."Just power? Just...I thought it was to protect the future"

"Without power, you can't protect the future! You can only watch it go to waste" his father retorted. "Do you have any idea what you've done, Theodore? What you did to me, this year? Leaving and never a word? Making the Dark Lord order your death? _How could you_"

Theo closed his eyes. He'd known this moment would come, somewhere, had hoped for it in a strange way, but everything he'd planned to say had gone. There was only the truth.

"There are some prices you cannot pay. I can't pay. Not and remain myself, which is the point of the exercise, if you will. I had to go, because I couldn't do what you asked of me, and not doing it meant...death, by then. I thought. Was I wrong"

His father's ashen face was answer enough.

"So...I had to. For...everything. For myself. For...a lot of other people, in a way."

"Your duty was to me. To family"

The clouds overhead looked like rain. Theo hoped they could hold off until he got inside. The wind was rising, too, as if the battle had brought on a storm.

"You aren't the only person I have a duty to. You haven't been for years." That realisation had come last year, when he'd been given the choice of who to betray. And he'd chosen. "It's - maybe that's a part of growing up. I don't know anymore. I just don't know."

"You're _my_ son. Mine. You can't do this to me"

"No, I can't. Of course I can't." Theo was too old to cry. So he wouldn't. "But, you know, I'm going to anyway. I'm sorry." The last was a whisper.

His father looked bereft. Theo had thought that he'd made this break a year ago, but of course he hadn't told his father that. Theo had let go; Eric Nott had never been given the chance. That happened today, and here.

"You can't leave me too"

"I..." _Don't leave me alone_, his father's eyes begged, and Theo was out of irony, of anger, of the last fading remnants of resentment. Out of everything but the knowledge that his bridges had been burned too long ago to go back, even to dull that bleak pain. No going back. "I - There's one thing I couldn't give you, Dad. I couldn't be a Death Eater. And that's the price you set for _not_ going. It was too high."

"No, I didn't do that, I wouldn't - it wasn't _like_ that "

"Then listen to this" Theo jumped to his feet, knowing he was going to walk away in a minute, wishing he didn't have to. His father rose, too, but Theo loomed over his father's stooped shoulders. When had that happened"Would you have accepted, if I had...if I had stayed, that I do not believe in what you do, I haven't for years, that I would not and could not follow you - _would you_"

"Why wouldn't you" his father blazed. "I didn't raise a coward! I raised you to know what matters! To know the right things to do! To know who to follow"

"I do know the _right things_" Theo said coldly, taking refuge in the anger that stirred. "They just aren't _your_ right things. Murdering children. What's the point in that"

"Mur - I've never murdered a child, how can you say that"

Theo took a deep breath. Maybe it was true. Maybe. His father been there, but there was no evidence he'd killed - but he'd watched, all the same. He'd accepted.

"Elise Martin. Hector Martin." Theo was half-surprised he remembered the names, and half-knew he could never have forgotten, not Anne's desperate letter. "Do those names mean anything"

His father's face was blank. Apparently they didn't. Theo relaxed. Sort of. Could his father be capable of killing and not even caring who had died at his hand"You saw them die, Dad. Two summers ago you went to Essex, in August, and you were there when two children and their parents died for being half-bloods. I don't know about any others, but I know those. My girlfriend lives two doors down from them. They weren't dangerous to anyone. They were...just a couple of kids."

His father frowned. "What? Them? Of course I didn't murder them " ****

Theo smiled. It was grim, because who knew what else his father had done, but at least -

"- that's ridiculous, Theodore, killing Mud-bloods isn't murder. You know _that_."

So that was what it felt like when your heart cracked.

"I'm sorry you think that, Dad" Theo said levelly. His voice sounded distant to his own ears. "There's one _Mud-blood_, you see, who I would really have liked you to meet." Stupid day-dream. Why had he bothered"I think you would have liked her. If you'd known her, and if...never mind. It's not important now. By the way, I got that letter my mother sent."

"Letter" his father said blankly. "What letter"

"Seventeen years ago. She sent me a letter. I only got it in October. I suppose she couldn't tell you about it, because of Monique."

"Monique? Poor Adrienne with a blood-traitor for a sister and she made sure you knew about it? She wouldn't do that"

"I knew already, actually." It was easy to be calm when you'd lost _all _hope. After all, all Theo had to do now was walk back to the castle, and Anne, and Terry, and his friends and family and future. This was...tying up the loose ends. That was all. The Notts, that proud pure-blood family, died here. Something else began. Theo wasn't sure what it was. "Lucky Adrienne, I think. To have a sister who loved her enough to forgive her marrying a Death Eater. A sister who still spoke to her, and visited her. Nieces and a nephew who loved her even though she hated their father. That's luck. I wish I had it."

"She told me she never spoke to her sister again"

Theo shrugged. "She lied, then. I've seen photos. I've talked to my cousins. They remember her. They remember me. Love is supposed to be above...ideological disagreement. Funny how it isn't, sometimes."

"Isn't it" his father said, very quietly.

"Well, it is for me" said Theo slowly"but I'm putting a price on it too, I suppose. Just...accept my choices. I think that's fair."

"Choosing the winning side? How very appropriate, for a Nott." His father's smile was bitter. "One of us carries the family on. But no. You disavowed the Dark Lord, and you disavowed your family. This was never a war where you could compromise. And I will not."

"It never was" Theo agreed. "Pity. You're right. The name goes on. At the moment, it looks like it won't be as the family you fought for. But we go on, still...I wonder how many times this has happened before"

"None" his father said in clipped tones. "Because our family has never bred traitors."

Theo had thought that word no longer had the power to hurt. He'd been wrong.

"To what? And to whom? What promises did I ever break, Dad"

Silence, again. The silences were telling, in their own way.

"Why, Theodore" Eric Nott sounded _old_, in a way he never had before. "_Why?_"

"Because...because a Muggle-born reminded me, one day, that she cared about her family as much as I cared about you. Because the Dark Lord offered nothing I wanted, and everything I didn't. Because...well."

His father just looked back, not understanding. Perhaps there were no words in the world that could make him understand. Theo felt as if he'd come to the end of everything, as the first drops of rain began to fall. The end of a world, looking over a blasted battlefield. He should find Anne, in the warmth and safety of Hogwarts. There was nothing left to say here.

"I missed you, this year ." It was the last thing to say, and the only thing. "I'm sorry."

"Where are you going" his father shouted after him. "Theodore! Come back here this instant! Where's my wand"

Theo stopped, and looked over his shoulder. He had seen someone emerge from the castle gates, through the rain. His father's freedom was going to be shortly curtailed, and he couldn't bear to watch that.

"Dad"

His father stopped short. "What"

"I " It shouldn't be this hard to say. It wasn't as if there was anyone there to hear them. "I do love you. That's not what this is about. And it's not that I...that I love you _less_ than anyone else. Just that I can't...I couldn't take your road. I couldn't. I'm sorry." The rain was heavy, plastering his hair to his scalp and disguising any other dampness on his face. "Fare you well."

It was archaic, it was stupid, it was what he _meant_, and his father's confusion allowed him to stride back towards the castle through the driving rain, ignoring the fact he was soaked.

"Theodore" his father called. "Come back"

_Fare you well, Dad. I'm sorry. _

_God, I'm sorry. _

"Theodore"

He passed the figure on the way. It turned out to be an Auror, sensibly enclosed in a Shield Charm.

"Who're you" the Auror said sharply.

"Theodore Nott" Theo told him.

'And who's that yelling after you"

"That's...that's...I...Eric Nott. You...he..."

The Auror peered at Theo through the rain, recognition lighting his face. "Oh, _our_ Theodore? Cat said you were too bloody tall. Get inside."

Theo blinked. "_Liam O'Neill_"

"That's Sergeant O'Neill to you, cousin mine. Go on in, you look like a drowned rat. Mum'll have my hide if I let you catch cold. She's looking for you."

Theo shrugged. Family was family. "Very well. Nice to meet you. Cousin. I suppose you..."

"Yes, I'd better - yes." Liam looked over Theo's shoulder. "Sorry. Duty, and all that. Just...go on in. It's over."

"I've said my farewells" Theo told him harshly, striding towards the castle, and the future, while the past called through the rain behind him.

"_Theodore"_


	23. Ritando

A/N: Sorry for the delay - believe me, not having internet access half-killed me! I intend to post the epilogue in the next couple of days. Thanks for your patience, guys. Chapter Twenty-Three - Ritando

There were Aurors on the door of Hogwarts. They let Theo in only, he suspected, because they'd seen their colleague talking to him.

"Who's still out there?" one of them, a brown-haired man, asked.

"No one sensible, Hal," his partner snorted.

"My f-" Theo clamped his mouth shut on the word. "Eric Nott."

The brown-haired Auror narrowed his eyes at him. "So you're Theodore Nott, huh?" If Theo didn't know better, he would have thought the man was hiding a smile.

"Yes," Theo allowed stiffly, striding quickly into the school. The _last_ thing he needed was to be stared at by some stupid Auror who thought he knew who Theo was. They didn't know _anything._ Not anything that counted. Theo was going to - well, first, go to the Great Hall, because his wrist felt like there were red-hot spikes driven through it, and then...go back to his common room and find out what today had cost Hogwarts.

He knew what it had cost him.

The Entrance Hall still had a few people in it, mostly going in and out. The only one who wasn't was Anne. As soon as he saw her, everything he'd been meaning to do went right out of Theo's head. Anne, who had been sitting white and small on a step, evidently keeping out of the way, flooded with colour and life, springing to her feet.

"Theo! Oh, thank God, you're not - your arm -"

A few quick steps was all it took Theo to reach her. She reached out to touch his left arm gingerly, and he winced.

"It'll be all right. Anne -" The next thing he'd meant to say was, "What happened to you?". He attributed to blood loss and shock the fact that what came out was "I love you, you know that?"

Terry, who had bounced out of the Great Hall unnoticed and was just tugging on Anne's sleeve, giggled. Theo wasn't sure to be relieved or angry when Anne, who had transferred her attention to Terry, said, "Yes, I do, Terry, where have you _been_? Theo disappearing, then you off again, I was worried -"

Terry snorted. "Anne, you're an idiot."

"I didn't leave everyone panicking!" Anne said, glaring at her. "Why can't you stay in the same place for two seconds at a time?"

"Sorry, Theo," Terry said with great aplomb, "what she actually means is that she loves you too and she's really happy to see you but she's feeling upset 'cause of the battle and she's trying to look after me even though she doesn't need to 'cause she's my big sister."

Theo wished fervently that hexing second-years was not something that would bring down a professor's wrath on him. "Thank you for that translation, Terry. I could never have worked that out by myself."

"Ahem." Anne had, apparently, finally heard what he had said - and what _she_ had said. She was blushing. "Oh, dear."

Theo gave her a half-smile. "I always know what you mean, remember?"

Anne bit her lip, then smiled back. "Thank goodness for that."

And he had known what she meant. Which was probably what counted. Theo winced as the doors opened and Liam O'Neill's voice could be heard announcing there was another prisoner. He'd known what his father meant, once. In the here and now it was impossible. Perhaps that was what loving someone meant. Understanding them, and caring for them even so...

Some of the implications of that were untenable, and untrue besides, so he nodded towards the stairs.

"I have to go to the hospital wing. Or wherever Madam Pomfrey is. My wrist's broken, I think. And I need to find Monique."

"You mean the Great Hall." Definitely blood loss; he didn't normally forget things like that. Anne fell into step beside him, Terry skipping along as well. "Madam Pomfrey's injured, and there's too many people to use the hospital wing. Your...your family are all okay, and mine too, but...it's bad."

"It's _over_," Theo said. "It's worth that, if it's over for good."

"I don't know about that," Anne replied quietly, glancing at Terry. Theo followed her gaze across the Entrance Hall, past the black scar in the marble floor , the splintered doors letting rain blow in, and the blood, which was stubbornly refusing to be washed away. "Maybe it is. But...I wish we didn't have to pay _this_ price."

"_We_ didn't," Theo reminded her. Hannah Abbott's slumped form danced under his eyelids, Anthony Goldstein with his missing hand, Dennis Creevy covered in his brother's blood. Even Blaise Zabini. "You're right, though. I wish that it hadn't had to be paid at all."

"_We_ didn't?" Anne raised an eyebrow. "Theo, I talked to Ernie Macmillan. I saw..." She glanced back to the door, and the Aurors who must now be standing there, along with...no. No looking back. "You paid for this victory, too."

It was true, but it wasn't a truth Theo wanted to hear.

"I did what I had to," he said coldly. "It wasn't as if there was a choice."

"Theo-" Anne bit her lip, then shook her head. "Maybe you're right."

Under her breath, he heard her mutter, "But you don't really think that."

He chose to ignore it. He didn't want to talk to anyone about what had just passed between him and his father, not even Anne. Not until he was ready. Not that it was too painful, although painful it was; it was merely private. He'd betrayed his father's trust enough, today.

* * *

The Great Hall was full to the brim with people in various states of shock and injury. Approximately half were parents and siblings who had arrived in the great rush the night before. Theo was scolded by a Healer from St. Mungo's for having a broken arm and not having come in sooner, then further when he started to shiver from the cold and damp. The Hall was anything but cold with so many people in it, but Theo was forcibly seated near one of the fireplaces and told to stay there "or else!" Anne was amused. It was not often that someone managed to order Theo to do anything.

Anne had been in there earlier for her multiple small injuries, which had added up to quite a lot of pain. She still had to favour her left side, and the Healer who treated Theo (who had also treated her) frowned at her and asked if her shoulder was giving her trouble. Anne shook her head mutely, feeling suddenly too tired for words - impossible, it was barely midday - then followed Theo over to sit with him beside the fire. Her family were safe, and she would see them, but she wanted to reassure herself Theo was all right. She wanted to reassure Theo. Whatever he had said to his father, it would weigh heavily on him. Terry, after being kept for a good and well-deserved sisterly scolding, tried to race off again to her common room.

"I have to go and find Mum and Dad - well, again, I saw them before - and Jake, too, I haven't seen him yet and Alex and Cait couldn't find him either - I think he was -"

"Jake," Anne repeated to herself, unable to stop. "That was his name. I couldn't remember, you know. That was terrible. I should have remembered. Someone should have remembered."

"What?" Terry halted, half-ready to fly. She looked so...innocent. Anne couldn't say it. She couldn't. She wanted to eke out this moment, to preserve, for however long, that look of innocence that even the Cruciatus curse and a battle had not been able to dent. This news would. It had to.

Theo slipped his arm around her waist; she barely noticed it.

"Terry," she began slowly, "Terry, I hate to be the one to tell you-"

"No!" Terry shot back, clenching her fists. The noise went unnoticed in the bustle of the Hall. "No, he's fine, he has to be, he's fine, he'll be back in the common room, he's _fine_ -"

Theo interrupted the ragged chant. "Terry. You saw this battle."

Her sister's face crumpled, and Anne wanted to turn time back.

"No," Terry whispered, "it's not true if you don't say it, don't say it-"

Anne forced the words out. "He's dead, Terry. I saw his body. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"_No_." Terry collapsed into Anne, stifling sobs in her shoulder. "No, please, not Jake, it isn't _fair-_"  
"You know about Hannah Abbot?" Theo said to Anne, looking down at her and Terry with a frown.

"Yes." Anne swallowed. "And Colin. And Helen Thompson. And Professor Sinistra, and Professor Dumbledore, and...Don't read me the list of the dead, Theo; I can't handle it right now." Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them back. "Not right now."

"Blaise Zabini, if that makes you feel better," Theo told her with black humour.

That brought Terry's head up. "Was he the one who hurt me?"

"Yes." Theo's face tightened.

"I'm glad!" She dashed a sleeve across her face. "But Jake...Anne, why did they come here?"

Anne held her sister close. "They wanted everything, and we couldn't let them have it."

"The story of the last few centuries," Theo muttered.

"In the Muggle world as much as ours," Anne agreed over Terry's head.

"_Ours_?" Terry didn't look up. "The Muggle world's ours too, Anne!"

"Maybe you're right," Anne said, to soothe her, but Theo's smile was wry. He knew what she really meant.

_Not as it was. Not ever again. The wizarding world sucks you in and doesn't let go, and then it demands everything you have for the right to stay there, when you have no choice about it. _

_So not truly ours, Terry, not any more. We lost that battle long ago._

"Is everyone else in my year okay?" Terry asked in an unusually quiet voice.

"I don't know," Anne said at the same time as Theo. "The best thing for you to do right now, if you're okay, is go back to your common room where Mum and Dad are, all right? Look, Parvati Patil's just over there. She's in Gryffindor, she'll take you back."

"You should come," Terry said hopefully. Anne shook her head. "I want to, but I have to go to _my_ common room. Headma- Headmistress's orders. I've sent them a message; they know I'm okay. Will you be all right, now?"

Terry sniffled, but got up. "Yes. You _should_ come, no one cares about the rules anymore."

"Go on. I'll see you as soon as I can."

Terry nodded, then straightened her shoulders and headed through the crowd to where Parvati Patil had last been.

"She's right," Theo spoke up, "no one would care."

"I can't take Terry's grief as well, not for a little while longer. And my parents...I can't face them now, is that strange?" Anne replied wearily. "Not with Terry out here when she should have been safe, and with everything...I'd rather pretend for a little while that they're safe home. I always hated telling them when things went wrong here. If I have to see them, I'll have to admit they were right, before..."

"Right about what?"

"The stakes _were_ too high. To stay." She could hear her voice fading. "Look around you. Just before, I was - I was throwing all these stupid words about duty at them, and about being an adult, here...I don't want to be, anymore. If this is what it means." She gestured at their surroundings. The injured, and the weeping, and even the dying. The bloody remnants of war.

"_Our_ world?" Theo said deliberately.

She leant her head on his shoulder, unable to summon the energy to laugh. Their world. Of course. The price hadn't been too high because there was nothing else that could have been done, despite everything telling her differently. You couldn't hide from yourself. You couldn't be what you weren't just because someone else wanted you to. If the past year had taught her anything, it was that.

"I hope Parvati is okay to get her back there," she added as a thought struck her. "She'll be pretty fragile, right now."

"Why?" Theo frowned. "I saw her sister earlier, she's okay -"

Anne closed her eyes against a flash of memory. Parvati huddled next to Lavender Brown, holding her hand in a death-grip. Moving onwards.

"Lavender Brown. You remember - they were good friends," was all she needed to say.

"Oh." Theo was silent for a moment. "I see."

_What you're thinking is that you thought Lavender was a giggling twit and better her than someone else_. _But you're not _saying_ it because that would upset me, except you don't need to say it for me to know what you mean...except I'm probably being unfair...except I know you too well. _

"How?"

It was a morbid fascination, but one Anne could sympathise with. You didn't want to know and you didn't want to have seen, but somehow the truth was better than what your brain came up with in its place, left to speculate.

"Broken neck. She was alive when I left, but...oh. I wish I'd stayed. At least she wasn't alone. Hannah?"

"Nothing so bad. Only the Killing Curse. From behind." Theo snorted. "Only. She was fighting. Like that makes it _better_."

"It does," Anne insisted. "It means...something. I think."

"I like not such grinning honour as she hath," Theo said bitterly. Anne was too tired to try and figure out where that came from, and doubted she'd be able to. "I'd rather live, thank you very much."

"Then why are you here?"

"Pride. If you want to call it that. Or maybe...what you said about Terry, once. You become what people expect of you, because their disappointment is worse than whatever it is they expect you to do."

_The other great truth of life. Fight to the death to stop yourself becoming what others _wish_ you to be, and fight to the death to be what they _believe_ you are. _

"I wanted to run away," Anne admitted, quietly. "Or hide with Terry. But you can't. Harry Potter gave us what we needed to fight; not fighting would have been...disloyal. You can't do that." Her lips twitched in memory. "Oh, yes, and Ginny Weasley would have had our heads."

Theo laughed, not in humour. "I wanted to run. I did, I suppose. But then I ran straight into Ernie and the others, and they expected me to go with them, and I couldn't...it was the way they didn't even think I might run. Just like my father never thought I - one betrayal is enough. I do have _some_ self-respect."

"I don't think you're like that. Even if you prefer to think you are."

"Well, exactly. The question is, how long do you have to wear a mask before it becomes the truth?"

"You don't," Anne said with conviction, "wear a mask around _me_. So I think I can make that judgement."

"Sometimes," Theo said dryly, "I really do think I should have overridden boredom and gone to the damn Quidditch match."

Anne elbowed him, but without real force. "Uh-huh. I believe you."

"No, you don't."

The noise in the Hall was dying down as people got sent back to their common rooms or simply lost the energy to keep talking. The bench Theo and Anne were sitting on creaked as someone lowered themselves onto the other end. Anne peered around Theo to see Estella Haywood sitting there, staring blankly at the fire.

"Hello," Theo said.

Estella didn't look up. "Mmm."

"I heard about Andrea Banks," Anne commented carefully. That made two from Estella's class, counting Gerald Cameron in the summer. Anne's class had been so lucky, with only Gabby. Then there was Brian, transferred to St. Mungo's and hovering on the edge; Sarah had been a mess, unable to hold still. Maybe that was her trouble. She committed so fiercely to protecting her classmates, each and every one, that any objection to that protection appeared to her as a betrayal. You had to pity her children, if she had them. Still, it made her a good Prefect, especially the way she watched over the youngest ones. Everything had two sides. Even today's battle must, although Anne was having trouble seeing the good of it through the haze of deaths.

Anne realised her thoughts were drifting. She was bone-weary. Her crying had been done before Terry had been found; any more would wait 'till later. Her speaking to Theo had been done, for the moment. She should go, before someone came and sent them back to their common rooms. She should find her family. She just couldn't bring herself to go anywhere.

"Malfoy was out there," Estella said suddenly. "Not dead. Not worth killing him. I don't know what's happened."

"He'll have run," Theo replied. "If he's lucky, he will have got away. And there's no _proof_."

Estella shrugged. "He's powerless, now. Everything he had was because of his family, and the Dark Lord. And..."

"What?" Theo said warily. Anne could feel him tense. He'd never liked Estella Haywood very much, Anne knew. She wasn't sure what that stemmed from, other than the fact the Slytherin girl was frankly intimidating. You had no idea _what_ was going on behind those cold grey eyes.

"This." Estella pulled out a wand; Anne didn't recognise, it but Theo drew in a breath. "He'll kill you if he can, for that."

"I know _that_. Let him try." With a quick motion, she snapped the wand in two. Anne winced; even she knew what that symbolised to another wizard. Even today, she had not seen one person break another's wand. Take it, hide it, but not break it. It was simply not done.

Estella tossed the two pieces of wood into the fire, where they caught immediately, throwing off green and gold sparks from the magical core. She stood and left without a word.

"Was that revenge?" Anne asked. "Malfoy will never know she did that."

"He doesn't need to. Haywood knows, and she knows he'll wonder forever just what she did with his wand...an even better revenge. If you're in the business of making lifelong enemies."

"And you're not?"

"Not when it's easily avoidable, no."

"No," Anne echoed. The noise around them was no more than a murmur, now. Surely someone would be along any minute to make them go.

Just for now, she didn't move.

* * *

With the Hall now quieter, the weary voice from behind them was easy to hear.

"Theo?"

Theo disengaged himself from Anne and stood.

"Liam said you'd come this way, and I needed to check," Theo's aunt explained. "Are...you all right, Theo?"

Theo hesitated. If anyone would understand..."Yes. Yes, I'm fine."

"Good." Monique gave him a fierce hug, and he could see Anne hiding a smile at his startled expression. But after a second, he returned it. Family, after all. "I'm glad you didn't get yourself killed. When you rushed on out there..."

Theo shrugged, feeling embarrassed. Put that way, he sounded like an idiot Gryffindor. "I...wasn't thinking."

Monique smiled wryly. "If you wish. Callum would have stopped by, but he's...busy."

"His Housemates haven't strung him up for treachery?"

"Let's say it's still under debate." Monique glanced at Anne. "I'm sure Anne can explain the implications of what he did. Be safe, the pair of you."

"Not much danger here." Anne gestured at the Hall. "I'll try to keep him out of trouble, Mrs. O'Neill."

"You'll -" Theo choked, and his aunt laughed. "I'm sure you will."

"So, Anne," Theo asked as his aunt left, "what are all those rooms leading off your common room?"

She stiffened, staring up at him warily as he sat.

"What rooms?" she asked.

Theo rolled his eyes. "I already know about them, you heard Aunt Monique. Those rooms and tunnels that come out beside the main fireplace. One of the tunnels goes to a door in that ante-chamber behind the dais in the Hall here."

Anne gaped. "How do you know about that?"

He grinned, enjoying her total amazement. "Callum led a group of us out through there when the Death Eaters hit the Hall. I must say, your fellow Hufflepuffs didn't look too pleased to see us. I was quite pleased to get out of there as fast as I could. That's what Aunt Monique meant."

Anne groaned, shaking her head. "Oh, no. Your uncle is going to be _toast. _Hung, drawn, and quartered. The sett's been a House secret since Helga Hufflepuff. It's _never_ been revealed to anyone outside the House. Ever. In a thousand years. People are going to have absolute fits. This is terrible."

"More terrible than Death Eaters?" Theo said sharply, and she smiled wryly.

"Well, perhaps not, but this is...a thousand years of tradition? You can't talk about this to anyone. I mean it, Theo. Bad enough if - how many of you were there?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Ten, twelve? Alicia Davies and her brother, a couple of other Slytherins, some Ravenclaws, Longbottom, a boy in your year, Jeremy, I think it was, _he_ wasn't pleased, and my...my family. A few."

Anne sighed, looking over her shoulder at the rest of the Hall. "I should have guessed, I suppose. On a day like today, anything can happen. Still. I can't believe your uncle would do that. He seemed so sensible."

"He _is_ half-Muggle. I suppose our traditions don't mean as much to him in the face of danger."

Anne frowned at him.

"_I_'m Muggle-born," she pointed out stiffly, "and I've never told anyone, not even my parents. You don't have to have the right blood to appreciate tradition. God knows, you've broken enough of it."

Theo looked down, chastised. "Only because I had no choice."

"Only because he had no choice," Anne said, and then, sighing, "I don't know how you do it, really I don't."

"Do what?" Theo said, looking up at her, or at least, less down.

"Mix me around. Three seconds ago I was arguing against your uncle, and I just started defending him."

"It's a talent," Theo told her gravely, "I'm getting you to see all sides of the argument."

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Pick the one you like best, and stick with it. Or not, as circumstances warrant."

Anne muttered something Theo didn't quite catch which sounded like "politicians' game." He chose not to comment. Anne was capable of a very broad worldview, as she had proved by putting up with him. She was allowed a small prejudice or two.

"Who sent you here?" came a cheerful voice from behind them. Theo followed Anne's gaze to a short, spiky-haired Auror.

"Hello, Sergeant," Anne said. "Theo got sent here to dry out, he was out in the rain."

"Talking to your father, I heard," the Auror - no, wait, it was the disowned Black daughter's daughter, Sergeant Tonks - addressed Theo.

"That's not your business," Theo replied coolly. "Sergeant."

"It could be," she said equitably. "But under the circumstances, I'll take your word for it. Professor McGonagall's just getting me to go round and remind you all that you're to get back to your common rooms fairly soon, they're trying to keep track of everyone."

"Who's taking over Hufflepuff, do you know, Sergeant?" Anne asked. Theo remembered seeing Professor Sprout fall.

The Auror's face saddened. "Professor Wykeham, for the moment. And before you ask, Professor McGonagall is Headmistress for the interim."

Theo had almost forgotten. Death you had seen had a vivid intimacy that reported death could not, and blocked it out almost entirely.

"What happened to - to Dumbledore? Was it the Dark Lord?"

"Yes. I don't know details, but - ah, well, it's no secret anymore. There was a prophecy, about...it isn't important, but it mentioned there was only one person who could kill You - kill Voldemort. And when he realised it...he was free to attack Dumbledore. Then the battle, and, well...Harry fulfilled it. He killed Voldemort."

"Dumbledore _will_ be missed," Anne said softly.

"Yes," Theo agreed. He'd barely spoken to the Headmaster, but Dumbledore had found him safety over the summer - and watched, as best he could, during the term. A debt was owed there that Theo had never been easy about. Now it would never be repaid. Theo knew, of course, that Dumbledore would have said some nonsense or other about how choosing the right course was repayment - but Theo knew it wasn't. That had had nothing to do with Dumbledore, and was not to be confused with it.

Sergeant Tonks shook her head, breaking the spell. "Well, I'd best get on and warn the others. Don't hang around here _too_ long, you two, you'll become joined at the hip."

Theo frowned after her. "I wonder how the Dark Lord found out the actual wording of the prophecy?"

"You knew about it?" Anne sounded startled.

"That _a_ prophecy existed - but I'd forgotten, to be honest. My father mentioned it, once, back - oh, the summer after fifth year. It didn't seem important at the time."

"Really?" Anne's expression was disbelieving. "Not important?"

"Well...more not my business. There I was, holed up in my room writing letters to you; I owed my father that secret. I never wanted to be a spy."

_And I never was. Apart from...once. Once only, and I couldn't have blood on my hands, even at second hand. _

_No, I kept that promise to myself. As well as I could. _

"You'd be terrible at it, anyway," Anne murmured. "Too much honour."

Theo scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."

Her expression was faintly amused. "Very well." Looking around, she sighed. "We better go. They know where everyone is, but I don't blame them for wanting to feel like they're doing something."

"_I_ can," said Theo grudgingly. "But I suppose you're right."

"Following the rules? What's the matter with you today?"

The joke fell rather flat, but Theo did his best to prop it up.

"No idea. It just seems rather incongruous to survive a battle and still end up with detention."

"I swear Snape was on the point of giving some of the Gryffindors detention for surviving," Anne told him, eyes twinkling. "He had high hopes for this battle, I think."

"He survived, then?"

"As far as I know. He was chivvying people out of here just before you got back with his usual cheerful demeanour."

"Ah, we're all leaving in two weeks." Theo waved a hand. "I hear he's planning the party for the moment Harry Potter walks out the gate of Hogwarts, though. "

"I can imagine." Anne rose reluctantly. "_Are_ you all right, Theo?"

He'd been asked that question too many times to count, by so many different people he'd given up on any answer but a simple "yes." But Anne deserved better than that.

"No." He reached for her hand, twining his fingers through hers. "I thought I'd...started again, this year. When I left last August. But I didn't. I've just been putting off finishing, this whole year. Or maybe I've spent it finishing. It's hard to tell, from here. I think I couldn't start again, not at Hogwarts."

Anne nodded simply. "Too many memories here. I don't want to come back, next year, and see...but I have to, don't I?"

"Good memories, too," Theo added hastily.

"Yeah, good ones." She looked around quickly, and apparently observing no direct onlookers, leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. "I'll try and find you when things calm down."

Theo squeezed her hand once, then let go. "Do that."

She paused, then leaned over again, this time for a hug.

"Terry was right. I mean - I love you, you know," she mumbled in his ear. Theo almost didn't catch it, but he did, and that was enough.

"I always know what you mean. We established that."

"Not the point." She straightened, reluctantly. Theo was reluctant for her to let go, anyway. "See you soon."

Theo watched her go, knowing he'd be evicted back to his common room any moment now. The ceiling of the Great Hall showed that it was still bitterly raining outside, the sullen dark grey of a summer storm. Theo stared at the swirling cloud for a minute before rising. He'd go back to the common room, and see what was happening, and then...then he had some mourning to do. His father's last call was going to haunt his dreams for weeks, but that was the price he'd chosen to pay. He just hadn't _known_ it, two years ago, when he'd told a quiet Muggle-born that of course he'd never be a Death Eater, how could she believe that of him?

But he'd paid it, all the same. There hadn't been much of a choice. Strange, how running and hiding could bring you, when all the fighting was done, to the same place you would have been if you'd taken the high road of defiance and courage.

He rose, shaking his head. No point philosophising, either; for the first time in what seemed like forever, all that lay in front of him was the future. There were still a lot of choices to be made, of course, but not like the ones that lay behind him. His own personal horizons were clear, never mind the sky outside.

Picking his way through the crowds, he followed Anne out of the Hall.


	24. Coda

Coda

The battle at Hogwarts did not end the war in a single stroke. No matter how many Death Eaters had died or been captured, no matter that the Dark Lord himself was dead - for good, this time - some lingered on, and some tried to fight in their master's name. But they were few, and much weaker than they had been. The last two weeks of the summer term were marked by barely any incidents, and no deaths. Theo and Anne could not avoid the signs of the war; it was there in the missing faces, in the physical destruction of the Hogwarts grounds, in their thoughts and their nightmares. But their part in the war was over.

Anne couldn't quite bring herself to believe it. Ever since she'd met Theo and grown into a realisation of what was threatening their world, the war and its consequences had loomed over her life, and if not in hers, through Theo's. That she could go about school knowing that it was over - that there was not still something waiting in the future for her to face - did not seem possible. She would wake up in the middle of the night reaching for her wand, or look up in the middle of a meal certain that she was supposed to be somewhere else - a DA meeting, watching Terry, the feeling was never defined but always panic-inducing. It was going to take a while to adjust to the idea that she could relax. She wasn't sure she would. The nightmares, in particular, seemed certain to be around for a while.

It helped, a great deal, that Theo's long-running battle with himself, one she hadn't quite realised he'd been fighting, was over. Looking back on the year, he had spent most of it running; leaving home and writing a note was, as she had told him when it happened, not an ending. You couldn't walk out on your only living parent like that after not a word of warning and call it final. She had not asked the details of his last and only confrontation with his father, the day of the battle, but whatever it was, it had finished something that had begun a very long time ago. She couldn't say it had made him happy, precisely, or that he was ever going to be totally at peace with himself about his decision. But for the first time since she'd known Theo, the axe that had been waiting to fall had done so. There were no more distractions, no more postponement, no more dread of the future, because the past had been laid to rest. He was calmer. Which kept her on-balance.

Her family had returned home with the other Muggle parents after two days, and slid back into their lives with relative ease (although she'd got more letters from them in the last two weeks than in the term preceding.) Eddie had grown even more grumpy after having _seen_ the school he'd been denied, but it was a practised sort of grumpiness that appeared in letters because it was what he'd always done rather than true resentment. Being stuck in the Gryffindor common room while a battle raged outside had taught Eddie why he might not want to be a Muggle-born wizard. Nicola's mood was hard to tell from the letters, but she seemed to be coping. Anne's parents were bland. The conversation with her parents after the battle had been fraught, not only because of what Anne had done, but because her father's ground had been pulled out from under him and he didn't like it.

"If something like this is going to happen where it's supposed to be safe -" he'd begun.

"_No_, that's the point," Anne had interrupted. "The Dark Lord's dead. The war's - well, not quite over, but it will be. It's finished, Dad."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes!" She'd folded her arms.

"We take your point," her mother had reproved Anne gently. "I still don't know why you had to fight yourself. You could have been _killed_." By the end, her voice was trembling.

"I could have been. But - you were here, and you couldn't fight this for me, only I could, well, and everyone else. I - it was a promise, I suppose."

"And Terry?"

Anne had scowled. "She was so lucky, I don't believe it! She had no place out there. That shouldn't have happened, and - well, trust me, she's got a piece of quite a few people's minds over it." Starting with Theo and herself, and ending with Professor McGonagall. After that, Anne had actually caught flashes of contrition.

"Oh, we believe you there." Her mother smiled wryly. "She actually apologised to us about it."

That had been Theo's suggestion - well, it had been phrased more like an order - but Anne had decided not to mention that. The subject of parents, and forgiveness, resonated strongly with him at the moment. And if Terry was shaken enough to take his advice, Anne wasn't going to interfere.

"You'll be fine at home. You know what to do if something happens." Anne had taken a deep breath. "And I'll be fine here. You don't have to worry any more."

"Do you believe that?" her mother had asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes." Anne had been surprised to realised it was true. "Yes. I know that."

Her father had shaken his head. "This world's too much for me."

"I - it isn't, Dad. There's just been...a lot of stuff happening. But it's over. I promise, it's _over_."

_I need it to not be too much for you, for at least a little while longer. I need you to understand. I need to be able to pretend I'm as much a part of your world as this one...for a little while longer. _

* * *

By unspoken agreement, she met Theo in the practice room before the Leaving Feast. They couldn't miss it, they both knew that well enough - not this year, of any - but Anne wanted to see Theo there once more. For two and a half years it had been a sanctuary for both of them. Anne would miss that, next year. She'd miss a lot of things.

Theo dug out from somewhere the piece he'd first asked her to play, so rudely, more than two years ago. Anne wasn't sure how he'd done it; her filing skills had always been haphazard when it came to music, and she wasn't sure where her part had got to. But she took up the challenge, as Theo must have known she would, and read it over his shoulder off the top line on his part. That challenge turned into another, of what they both could remember without any music. Theo claimed he'd won because "piano music has two lines, so it counts twice as much," and Anne claimed just as definitely that remembering an entire movement trumped that easily.

Some time after that good-natured debate, when Anne had put her flute away, she was perched in her old spot on the table. Theo was leaning against the wall. It gave a peculiar feeling of immediacy knowing that she would never see Theo there again; that this was the end of an era.

"I've never felt this quite...out of control of things before," Theo mused.

Anne tilted her head inquiringly. "What's to feel out of control about?"

"Everything," Theo replied. "Even last year, I had an, an ace in the hole. I knew what I really thought. I knew...I knew I was going to leave. Even this year, there was structure. There was school, and exams, and - at least I knew someone was keeping half an eye on me. Now? There aren't any more secrets, or plans, or...anything. I've come to the end of it all."

"Slytherins," Anne said, shaking her head, "there's more to life than plotting."

"That's just what _you_ think," Theo said, looking down his nose at her. He spoiled the effect by smiling. "So? That's how we work. And I seem to remember Callum taking pains to remind me that we weren't the only ones who could do cunning."

"True," Anne allowed, "I wouldn't want to get in Hermione Granger's way if I could avoid it."

"You have to admire it," Theo said thoughtfully. "She did manage to get rid of Umbridge, after all."

"Hmmm." Anne frowned. "What Ive heard about that is...ethically dubious."

"It was _Umbridge_. Are ethics really the most important part of that?"

"Yes," Anne said firmly. "They have to be. That's what the war was about. Standards of ethics."

"Funny, that's not what most of its participants thought."

"It's what it should have been about. That we weren't going to lower ourselves to their level."

Theo raised en eyebrow. "And no Death Eaters were killed? None were injured? None were hurt with malice, or carelessness, or for revenge? I think you'll find, in a lot of ways, there's very little we didn't stoop to, to stop them."

"But that's the point," Anne argued, "it was in defence. You don't see Aurors killing people just because they can. _I_ didn't kill anyone. At least - I think not. I can't imagine I did."

That was a guessing-game played in her nightmares, and one she'd as soon forget. If they hadn't been ethically above the Death Eaters - blood issues aside - what had been the point?

"I'd rather not know," Theo said, quietly, "for either of us. It's easier to believe we were just - just better than everyone we fought, isn't it? So much easier. Then the nightmares don't have anything to latch on to. Except..."

"...that way lies madness. Or, at least, what we fought to _stop_. Such an easy trap to fall into."

_Trap? It's a swamp. When you've seen war, and what you saw is unjustifiable, how do you justify your personal participation in one even when you had no choice...even when it was that or die, and it would have been worse if you'd lost? _

"For you, maybe," Theo corrected. "_I_ won't."

Anne looked at him for a long minute. "No. I suppose not. Did it ever occur that I can see that, too?"

"Yes," Theo admitted, slowly, "but you're still...not...you can see the human side of it, through me, but you're still seeing it _through_ me. Not like I do. And it is incredibly easy, and I should know this better than anyone, to tell yourself that one person you - you love is an exception to the rule, instead of the rule."

"You _aren't_ the rule," Anne responded, "because you're here, aren't you? But it isn't clean-cut. There aren't just good people and Death Eaters. I can see _that_."

"The question is, from your point of view, can Death Eaters _be_ good people?"

"Of course not," Anne said instantly, and then, after a pause, "Point taken. But that doesn't mean they're entirely evil."

"Do you believe that, or are you just saying it?"

"I don't know." Anne sighed. "I should believe it. And then I remember everything - everyone - we lost. Philosophical truths don't stand up very well to real life."

"They never have. Or they do - they just happen to be uncomfortable in the neat little world everyone lives in inside their heads."

"So what do we do about that?"

Theo shrugged. "You can't do anything about it. Personally? I'm just glad it's over. Because I won't have to get up every morning and wonder whether today is the day I pay the price for my choices, and whether they were the right choices at all. Or - not so obviously."

"Like someone dying," Anne said, searching for a metaphor. Theo gave her a quizzical look. "No, I'm not crazy. When Gabby died - I thought about it every day, because she wasn't there. Then it was at the end of the day. Then every two days. Then once a week. Then I realised - I'd stopped thinking about it. I hadn't forgotten, it just wasn't staring me in the face all the time. I couldn't _forget_, I never will, but I couldn't mourn constantly, because then you can't have a life."

_Gabby. How would you have taken the war coming to our last sanctuary? You believed you were safe, up until the end. I wish you were here to be safe. I wish _everyone_ was. _

_Too many memories. Are they ever going to go away?_

"So we can hope that one day, we'll get up in the morning and not think that it's been a week, or two weeks, or three, since the battle. We'll have breakfast and not remember the people who aren't. I'll look in the mirror without stopping to think about why there's a scar on my cheek. You'll speak to Terry without wondering if she's all right. How long do you think that will take?"

"A long time," Anne told him honestly. "My grandmother was a refugee from a war. She still didn't like talking about it when I knew her, and that was forty years later."

"How encouraging."

"But I was the one who brought it up. I don't think it was something she thought about very much."

"That is something to look forward to," Theo agreed. "Not having to consider the war every day. We don't, even now. And it is a relief."

"Yes." Anne decided to change the subject. They could thrash this out until the end of time, and it wouldn't make much of a difference. Not right now. "Anyway - have you heard back from Gringotts yet?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. I got the job."

Anne beamed. "That's wonderful! Right up your alley."

"I have had enough practice booby-trapping things this year to last a lifetime. Not that I could put that on the application form."

There was something...not quite right about Theo's expression.

"What's the downside, then?" Anne asked shrewdly.

He looked almost sheepish. "Well...Gringotts is an international organisation."

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Anne's stomach. "Where?"

_Siberia? Assyria? Australia?_

"Just Paris," Theo said hastily. "It's the only place they've got apprenticeships open, this year; I can apply for a transfer after that. I'll probably end up back in London eventually."  
"Oh, _Paris._" Anne relaxed. "You had me worried. I thought you were going to say the North Pole, or something. Paris is closer to London than Hogwarts, practically. Even if it is overseas. You'll take it, then?"

Theo shrugged, looking far more confident. Anne couldn't help feeling satisfied that he had worried about it. "Yes. It doesn't matter much. I mean, London or Paris, letters are letters."  
"I suppose not. It's just the idea of it." Anne smiled wryly. "At least you won't be here if any Death Eaters _do_ decide to try and keep the war going."

Theo's lips twitched. "That was, possibly, a factor in my decision. Please don't tell Monique. She'll have my head for treachery to my country."

"My lips are sealed." A thought struck Anne, and she grinned. "Anyway, maybe I can come visit in the holidays."

Theo shot her a look half speculative and half sceptical. "The day you can persuade your parents to let you visit your _boyfriend_-"

"They're not that overprotective."

"- in _Paris_, by _yourself_ -"

"I could bring Terry, I suppose. She wouldn't mind chaperoning."

Theo shot her a very dirty look. "- is the day I sponsor you for honorary membership in Slytherin."

"I can't wait."

He frowned. "And Terry can organise her own visits to Paris."

Anne laughed. "Don't worry, I trust you."

"Oh, good."

"...but not if you look like that."

Theo tried to look innocent. It didn't work very well. "Why on earth not?"

Anne just shook her head. "When do you go?"

"The first of August. It isn't much time, but Catriona's already volunteered herself to help me find a flat. Apparently she has friends in Paris. I think she's looking forward to playing older sister to someone."

"You mind?"

Theo snorted. "I'm not being given a choice. Besides, I don't know Paris from Prague. I'll take all the help I can get if I'm going to be _living_ there."

"How much French do you speak?" Anne asked dubiously.

He looked at her quizzically. "That's what translation spells are for. They aren't perfect, but little is."

Anne opened her mouth, thought for a few seconds, then finally said "That's cheating!"

Theo shook his head wryly. "I forget you don't know about that sort of thing."

"I do now." Anne frowned, drumming her fingers on the table top. "Paris. I wonder what sort of job I can get in wizarding Paris?"

Theo looked startled. "You've still got a year to go."

Anne shrugged. "Yes, but then I'm leaving school next year, and I'm hardly going to hang around in England if _you_'re off in France, now am I? Paris is closer than Hogwarts, but it's not close."

He ran a hand through his hair, looking abashed. "I...suppose not."

"Of course not. I couldn't...well, letters can get tedious."

"I'll do my best to make them interesting, I promise," Theo said solemnly, then smiled. "I will probably end up back in England for Christmas, at least. I doubt I'll be allowed to stay away."

"Would you rather?"

He shrugged. "Yes, in a way, but...no. It doesn't seem fair to spend Christmas with family when it's not...but it isn't as if I'll make things _better_ for any of them by making myself miserable. Well, I can imagine Celia would be quite happy if I was miserable, but making Celia happy has never been high on my list of priorities."

"What's happening to them?" It was a question Anne had wondered about for some time. "You said your aunt was...badly injured. Has she..."

"I don't know." Theo's lips thinned. "I don't think so. No, she'll probably recover, and join her husband and brother in Azkaban. Celia and Lucas have relatives on their father's side, plenty of cousins; they'll be taken in there. I don't know the details, but I think the MacDougals might be closest - I don't know if you know Morag MacDougal, she's in my year."

"Her sister's a friend of Terry's. Caitlin. That would be ironic."

"If my cousins had to live with a family whose daughter is friends with your sister? That's not irony, it's a sign of how inbred we all are."

"Don't their parents' wishes count?"

Theo laughed. "Anne, inmates of Azkaban - life inmates - are non-people, legally speaking. Wills they can't tamper with, but in any other matter? Their children are wards of the Ministry. Technically I was, after fifth year, but the Ministry, in their infinite wisdom, awarded guardianship to Karena and Paul. Which just incidentally followed my father's wishes."

"What _did_ you say to your father?"

Anne regretted saying it as soon as the words were out. Theo just looked at her, face set in an expression he hadn't worn while looking at _her_ for years. She began to babble an apology.

"I'm sorry, it's none of my business, of course you don't have to -"

Abruptly, the blank disdain dissolved, leaving just Theo looking infinitely weary.

"No. _You_ can ask, if anyone can. No one else is going to."

Asking again would be pushing it, so Anne didn't. She just folded her hands in her lap, waiting.

Theo folded his arms, staring at nothing. "The thing is...I thought I'd said everything I needed to. I did leave a note. But I was wrong. _I'd_ sorted it all out, in my own mind - or most of it - but Dad hadn't. He had no idea, until last summer. I keep forgetting that. I forget how much of a - of a betrayal, it must have seemed, when I just vanished. Because I lied, and I lied very well. So I owed him an explanation."

Anne held her breath, feeling that even a movement could cut this quiet, painful story off, and that would be...wrong.

"So I explained. That I know family, and, and love, I suppose, works both ways. Give and take. I seem to remember you screeching that at me, last August."

He looked at her for the first time, smiling crookedly.

Anne was stung into indignation. "I do not screech!"

The smile widened for a second. "No, you don't. It was just rather louder than your _usual_ tone of voice. Not that it would have got through to me any other way. I was enjoying being angry far too much."

Theo's face closed off again. "I told him...that there was one thing I couldn't give him. Being a Death Eater. Anything else. Not that. And he..." Theo shrugged, tiredly. "I asked him if he could have let me stay, knowing I thought he was wrong. He didn't answer. He didn't have to. So there it is."

"Is there anything else you need to say to him?"

Theo shook his head. "That's why I've been able to...that's why I can live with myself. I said everything I had to say. And so did he. There's nothing unfinished, anymore, and there was, all this year."

"I don't think that makes it _much_ easier," Anne noted.

"Of course not." He shrugged again. "There haven't been any easy choices for years. Just the lesser of two evils."

"You know," Anne said slowly, "I said the exact same thing to my parents. Almost. Isn't that strange?"

"What, that I'm the lesser of two evils?"

"Oh, the greater, definitely. No. That there was one thing I couldn't give them. Not wouldn't. Couldn't. Dad wanted me to leave Hogwarts. Seriously. And I couldn't."

"He gave in?"

"It was before the battle. There wasn't much point in me leaving _afterwards_. They won't ask again."

"Why?" Theo shifted against the wall. "The war?"

"It was too much." Anne made a gesture of frustration. "Coming here - nearly being killed - I protected them for too long. They didn't realise. Well, mostly Dad. Mum realised. It's not important now."

"It's not very easy, being Muggle-born, is it?" Theo said, frowning. "With two worlds having a claim on you. How do you manage?"

Anne laughed. "Sometimes, I don't. One day at a time. How do _you_ manage?"

His lips quirked. "One day at a time. You have to be able to live with yourself. That's all."

"That's all," Anne echoed softly. She took another look around the room. The house elves must not come here very much, or she wouldn't see those cobwebs in the high corners. Seeing a room, knowing you'd never see it in quite the same way again - with the same person in it, again - made it seem strange, almost new.

"What are your plans for the summer, then?" Theo said suddenly, switching topics.

"Not thinking about all the work I'm going to be putting in next year. Visiting my friends. I'm going to go visit Andy, Andromache, where she is now; Sergeant Tonks invited me. I'll see if Mum can come, too. Arguing with Eddie. Paying attention to Nic. Stopping Terry blowing up the house. The usual sort of thing."

"Writing lots of letters to me," Theo added blandly.

"Writing lots of letters to you, yes," Anne agreed with a grin. "You should come and visit sometime now that you're not running away from home."

"Are you sure your father won't chase me out of the house?"

Anne rolled her eyes. "Where _do_ you get this idea that my father doesn't like you? You've barely met him. If you do come over for a proper visit, then he'll know you're harmless."

"So he thinks I'm not?"

Anne shrugged. "I've been an incredible disappointment to him as far as bringing home boys to try and terrorise goes. He's not allowed to scare Eddie's girlfriends, whenever we see them. Which we don't. That's Mum's job. He's quite looking forward to it."

"I thought so," Theo muttered.

Anne bit back a smile. "Don't be too worried. He'll _try_ and be frightening. He's not very good at it."

"Believe me," Theo said with a great deal of conviction, "he won't have to try very hard. He managed to make me feel guilty by being in the same room."

"Guilty for what?" Anne inquired.

"Existing?"

She laughed. "Humility is good for you."

Theo scowled. "No, it isn't."

Anne didn't bother contradicting him; there was very little on this earth that could force actual humility into Theo, and it was amusing when something did.

"Anyway, your brother dislikes me enough for both of them," he added.

"He dislikes the wizarding world," Anne corrected. "He only dislikes you as an extension of that. And he's getting better, believe me; visiting Hogwarts seems to have taught him he isn't missing all that much. Well, visiting Hogwarts at the time and in the manner he did."

"That's one of the reasons the wizarding world is secret. Muggles - at least, Muggles as a group - have _never_ been able to handle magic. Because magic is power, and power is what everyone wants."

"I don't know if I do," Anne objected.

"You have it, though. Would you give up magic?"

Her face must have given her away, because Theo shook his head. "No, you wouldn't. Weren't you saying not so long ago it's the one thing you _can't_ give up? Even for your family?"

Anne didn't like what that implied. "Not because it's power. Because it's what I _am_ . As well ask me to put out my eyes. But I'm Eddie's sister, as well, and that's more important than magic. Or it should be. I think it will be."

It shouldn't have ever stopped being; but she couldn't control what Eddie thought and felt, and Eddie had wanted magic so very badly. The gift was that he might learn to put that aside.

"All the world's a stage," Theo quoted, ever so typically, "and all the men and women on it players. They have their exits and their entrances..."

"And?"

"I don't remember. The point is, we all have a lot of roles we have to play. The trick is making sure they're not mutually exclusive."

"Mine never have been."

"They were, for a little while, weren't they? Or your parents wouldn't have asked you to leave. But they're not any more. And neither are mine."

Theo straightened, and crossed the room to the piano. Gently, he shut the lid, which some careless player had left open. "And all's well that's ends well. In a sense."

"Not ending. Just...sorted. Everything's sorted. For a little while." Anne slipped off the table, walking over to join Theo.

He ran his hand along the top of the piano. There was an odd smile on his face; not quite happy, but not sad, either.

"Is anything sorted?" he said. "I don't see how it can be. We're only seventeen. I don't think we're old enough to sort anything out, really."

Anne leaned against the end of the piano. "Aren't we? Doesn't all this count?" The wave of her hand took in everything that had happened to them, individually and together.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Theo let his hand drop off to rest on the lid, turning his head to look at her again. "I didn't ever think this far, you know. I only thought as far as leaving home, and then it was surviving the year, and now here we are, and it's all over. Everything I spent my entire life waiting for is done, and my life isn't even started yet. Not properly. Nothing's sorted. The past's gone, and the present's going, and all I have left is the future. And until two weeks ago I had no idea what sort of future I was going to get."

"That's the point," Anne said. "It's sorted out that we get a beginning. I think that's enough."

"You could be right."

Theo looked around the room as if realising for the first time that he'd probably never see it again.

"Do you know," he said musingly, "I was absolutely horrible to you the day we met."

"Of course you were." Anne grinned. How long ago was that, now? They'd changed a lot. And not so much, in other ways. "There was a lot on your mind."

"There was, then, but it's not an excuse. You're too forgiving."

"I've got to be, with you around." _Not as much as I once had to be._

"Hah." Theo smiled back. "I propose we start again." He held out his hand to her. "Hello, I'm Theodore Nott. Pleased to meet you."

"Anne Fairleigh," said Anne, taking it. She smiled up at him, twining her fingers in his. "Welcome to the future."

**A/N:** Where do I start? I have had an absolute blast writing this story, and it's all down to you, the readers. You've given me good advice and encouragement. You're what made this truly worthwhile when my family were telling me to go and write "something real". One of you (Hexnut) gave me the idea for this chapter title. Along the way, I've even made friends with a few of you. There are too many of you to mention by name, but rest assured: if you reviewed, I read it, and I appreciate every one.

I can also assure you that Theo and Anne will be back. Look out for a post-Hogwarts one-shot, _Inevitability_, in the next couple of weeks. After that - I'm not sure, but there will be something.


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